


On the Edge of the Abyss

by alyb123



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friendship/Love, Keenler - Freeform, Partners to Lovers, Partnership
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14565600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyb123/pseuds/alyb123
Summary: As Liz struggles with her darker impulses following Tom's death, she initially avoids Ressler's calls but eventually turns to him as her confidante - and more - as she continues her pursuit of the truth.  Can he pull her back into the light?  Alternate version of events from episode 5.10 onward with all the Keenler moments we've been lacking onscreen.





	1. Chapter 1

"Sonofabitch _,"_ Donald Ressler muttered as he tossed Reddington's bottle of whiskey on the passenger seat of his SUV. Reddington's doorman had given him a curious look as he'd stalked out of the elevator with the bottle in his hand, but Ressler had ignored him and hurried out into the cold night air. Ressler shivered slightly as he put the vehicle in gear and peeled away from the curb. He'd left the Post Office in such a hurry to confront Reddington that he hadn't even bothered to grab his overcoat. He reached down and turned up the heat but the engine was still cold so he was greeted only by a blast of cool air. Ressler gripped the wheel tightly as he drove home through the dark city streets. He could hardly believe that things had ended so suddenly with Prescott dead. He'd expected to spend the night in a holding cell somewhere. He should have known Reddington would have other plans.

When he arrived at his apartment, Ressler placed the whiskey bottle on the bar in the living room. He eyed it for a moment before reaching for a glass and pouring himself a generous sample. "To Reddington," he mumbled before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip. The whiskey burned his throat pleasantly and instantly warmed him. Ressler took another long sip and smacked his lips in appreciation before carefully setting the glass down on the bar and heading into the bedroom to change. Of course Reddington had good taste in whiskey.

As Ressler removed his suit jacket, the envelope with Cooper's confession crinkled. Ressler picked it up and studied it. It was sealed. As curious as he was about its contents, he had no intention of opening it. Not now, anyway, and hopefully not ever. Ressler opened his nighttable drawer and pulled out small wooden box. He opened the lid of the box and carefully removed the handful of objects it contained, including his father's watch, and set them on the bed. He pressed lightly on the bottom of the box to release its false bottom. He pulled out the folded piece of paper inside and also set that on the bed before replacing it with Cooper's envelope. With a sigh, he picked up the folded piece of paper and turned it over in his hands before opening it.

_"Donald, I want to let you know that I do know how you feel…."_ Reddington's handwriting flowed across the page. Ressler couldn't count how many times he'd read those words, but it was enough that he had them committed to memory. After a moment, he re-folded the note and placed it back on top of Cooper's envelope and carefully replaced the false bottom of the box before refilling it with its contents. He fingers lingered for a moment on his father's watch before he deposited that back into the box too. _I wonder what you'd think of what I've become_ , he thought.

Ressler stood up and loosened his tie and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He'd mentally prepared himself for the prospect of spending the foreseeable future in a cell and so it felt strangely surreal to be home as if it were any ordinary evening. He slipped into a t-shirt and jeans and made his way barefoot into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared grimly at the mostly empty shelves. _Time to restock_ , he thought before slamming the door shut and reaching for a takeout menu.

With his food order placed, Ressler returned to the living room and once again eyed the whiskey bottle on the counter. _To hell with it_ , he thought as he poured himself a full glass and sat down on the couch. By the time the doorbell rang and his food arrived, the alcohol on top of an empty stomach left him feeling a slight buzz. Ressler set his food down on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer, unwilling to risk the inevitable hangover that would result if he continued to consume the whiskey.

Ressler flipped on the TV to watch the Nationals game while he ate, but his mind kept wandering and eventually he turned off the television and sat in silence. _Why did Red suddenly get rid of Prescott now? After all these months?_ He knew there had to be more to it than Reddington's supposed concern about Prescott knowing of their relationship. That had been the case for months, and Reddington had done nothing about it until now. Suddenly he made the connection. _Liz_. He'd almost forgotten in the rush of the day's events that Samar had told him that Liz was back in town and, more importantly, that she didn't think Liz was ever coming back to the Task Force. He hadn't gotten a chance to press Samar as to what had made her say that. He'd have to remember to ask her tomorrow. But clearly something was wrong, and if he knew Reddington, it was no coincidence that Reddington had chosen to eliminate his Prescott problem as soon as Liz returned. Ressler felt a strange sense of relief at the idea that Reddington's agenda might really be that simple.

_Liz_. Ressler leaned back on the couch and sipped his beer. He'd mostly managed to put her out of his mind the last few months. She'd been distant and withdrawn the last time he'd seen her and she'd made it clear she didn't want contact while she was gone. Before that, she'd been single mindedly focused on reconstructing the events of the day Tom was killed. Practically from the moment she could speak again, she'd grilled him and made him meticulously retrace every moment of that final, fatal day to make sure she hadn't forgotten or misremembered a single thing. And the crime scene. She'd wanted every detail he could remember of the crime scene at her apartment. He'd told her as much as he could, but it hadn't been pleasant for either of them. He hoped the time away had given her some space to heal and to start moving on. Ressler closed his eyes as the memories of that night came flooding back.

_He'd watched the surgeon prepare to drill into Liz's skull to relieve the pressure on her brain. He was so focused on the horrifying scene in front of him that he'd barely registered Cooper's hand gripping his arm and Cooper's voice in his ear murmuring "Don, let's go. You don't want to watch this." As if in a haze, he'd followed Cooper and the others out into the hallway and eventually down the hall to the waiting room. He hadn't lasted long there. Sitting and waiting was driving him crazy. He'd needed to move to distract himself, so with a murmured excuse to Samar and Aram about grabbing coffee, he'd fled outside. He'd paced up and down the block outside the hospital until at some point, he'd spotted Reddington's car parked with Reddington in the back seat. He'd made eye contact with the man, who looked so absolutely beat down and destroyed that Ressler had simply nodded and headed back towards the hospital entrance to leave him in peace. As he'd re-entered the hospital, he'd found the brightness and the noise immediately jarring. He'd spotted a sign pointing towards the chapel and while he didn't consider himself a particularly religious man, he'd hoped it might be a place of peaceful refuge. Thankfully, the chapel was empty and he'd sunk down into a chair near the back of the room and rested his head in his hands. He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there but eventually, the door had swung open and Cooper had taken a seat next to him. "She's stable," he'd said. "But it's going to be touch and go for a while. In the meanwhile, I want you and Navabi to get over to that apartment and get a look at the scene. We need to find out who did this." Cooper had cleared his throat before continuing. "Tom Keen didn't make it so this is now a murder investigation." Ressler remembered swallowing hard. Damn, he'd thought Tom Keen was practically invincible. "Yes, sir," Ressler had managed as he stood and made his way to the door where Samar was waiting._

_"I can't believe Tom is dead," Samar had said quietly as they drove towards Liz's apartment. "Liz will be devastated when she wakes up." Ressler had nodded wordlessly, unable to articulate how he really felt about the whole situation. When they'd arrived at the Keens' apartment, the place was swarming with police officers. They'd flashed their badges and introduced themselves to the lead detective. The small apartment was littered with bodies. And blood. So much blood. The detective was attempting to explain what they knew about the bodies but Ressler had barely heard him as he'd stopped and stared at an enormous pool of blood on the floor with no body nearby. He'd known without needing to be told that it was Liz's blood - the blood from her head injury. He'd taken a step backwards, feeling suddenly lightheaded, as Samar gripped his arm. "Ressler, you ok?" she'd asked. "I gotta step outside for a minute," he'd gasped as he pushed past the surprised detective and taken the stairs two at a time down to the street below where he'd gulped in lungfuls of cool air. Samar had joined him a few minutes later and placed a hand on his back. "I can handle this if you need to go," she'd said quietly. "She's going to be ok." Ressler had shaken his head. "No, I can do this. I need to do this. I'm fine. Let's go."_

Ressler opened his eyes and realized he'd drained his beer. With a grunt, he got up and made his way into the kitchen and deposited the bottle in the recycling bin. He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten. Ressler pulled out his phone and hesitated for a moment before pressing Liz's number. The phone rang a few times before Liz's voicemail picked up. He cleared his throat before leaving his message. "Liz, hey. I heard from Samar that you're back in town. Hope all's well. Give me a call so we can catch up." He set his phone down on the counter, opened the refrigerator, and reached for another beer.

* * *

Across town, Liz felt her phone vibrate in her pocket as she stood amidst the shattered glass of Bobby Navarro's coffee table. Gasping, she pulled it out and stared blankly at Ressler's name flashing on the screen. For a split second, she considered answering the call and asking for his help but just as quickly, she rejected the idea. Her hand shook as she pressed ignore and shoved the phone back in her pocket. _Not now_ , she thought as she gradually became aware of a sharp pain in her abdomen.


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly a full day passed before Ressler finally had the opportunity to question Samar about Liz.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked as they headed to the airport to catch their return flight home from Denver.

Samar raised an eyebrow. "Sure, what?"

Ressler licked his lips. "Yesterday you said you got the feeling Keen's not coming back. What did she say exactly that made you think that?"

Samar frowned as she considered the question. "It wasn't so much what she said as what she didn't say," she began slowly. "And what Reddington didn't say. She pretended to be pleased to see me but she felt…guarded. And when I asked about Agnes, she changed the subject. She had no interest in hearing about the case or anything else really. She seemed…preoccupied. And Reddington refused to answer me when I asked about her coming back."

Ressler shook his head. "Last time I saw her, all she wanted to talk about was the crime scene. The crime scene and everything that happened that day. I was hoping some time away might change that."

"Oh, I doubt it," Samar replied. "If I know Liz she won't rest until she finds out exactly who killed Tom and why. And honestly, can you blame her? I'd do whatever I had to do to find out who killed my husband if it came to it."

Ressler stared out the window at the passing cars. "I get it. I do. I just - I guess I don't like her going it alone. We should be helping her."

"You know what Cooper said. We had to allow Metro PD to run point. The Bureau wasn't going to approve us getting involved unless Reddington gave us something to work with that related to it. And he didn't. He hasn't," Samar replied.

"I know. And I don't like that either. Reddington should want us to solve this case. He's got to be hiding something," Ressler mused. "Whatever Tom got himself into, Reddington has to know more about it than he's saying."

"Well that's for Liz and Reddington to work out between them," Samar said. "It's out of our control." She glanced at her watch. "We're almost at the airport. I'm going to check in with Aram and let him know we'll be taking off soon."

Ressler nodded and pulled out his own phone. He hesitated for a moment before tapping out a text to Liz: "About to fly home from Denver. Crazy case. Hope you got my message. Would love to see you. Call me."

* * *

Liz had just finished cleaning the motel room and was loading the supplies into the trunk of her car when she felt her phone buzz. Seeing Ressler's text reminded her that she had never listened to his voicemail from the night before. She slid into the driver's seat and sat in the parking lot and played the message. She smiled faintly at the sound of his voice but her smile quickly faded as she looked up and stared at the door of the motel room she had just left. _You have no idea what I've become_ , she thought miserably. Honestly, she'd been relieved to find only Aram when she'd walked into the Post Office earlier in the day. She was sure Samar and Ressler wouldn't have let her get away with combing the files so easily without asking questions. Questions she'd rather not answer. Liz's finger hovered over the screen as she weighed whether to reply to Ressler's text. After a few moments, she shoved her phone back in her pocket without responding. She knew she'd have to talk to him eventually. She just couldn't face him yet.

* * *

"So Aram had some news about Liz," Samar began as their plane took off from Denver. "Apparently she showed up at the Post Office today."

"Maybe you were wrong, then," Ressler replied. "Maybe she does plan to come back. Did Aram say what she wanted?"

"Well that's the strange thing," Samar replied. "He says she wanted something from the files. He didn't seem to know what and of course he was so happy to see her, he didn't really ask. But he said she made it clear that she wasn't back except for whatever it was she came for and she had no interest in hearing about the case. He thinks we should invite her over for dinner. You're welcome to come too, of course," Samar added quickly.

Ressler nodded. "If you set something up, let me know. I left her a message last night. Hopefully she'll make contact soon." He stared out the window at the setting sun. _What did Liz want from the files?_ he wondered.

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the Post Office, most people had left, but Aram had stuck around to wait for Samar.

"I heard Liz stopped by earlier," Ressler said casually as he stopped by Aram's work station.

Aram grinned. "Yeah, it was good to see her. She looked great. Not quite her usual self, but that's to be expected."

"Samar said she was a looking for a file - do you know which one?" Ressler pressed. Aram shook his head.

"I didn't ask. Figured it really wasn't any of my business. It was one of the ones in the closed cases cabinet though," Aram continued as he gestured towards the hallway. "Second drawer, I think. I mean, if you wanted to look, that is," Aram added, looking uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aram. Don't worry about it," Ressler replied as casually as he could manage as he continued towards his office. "I'm sure it's nothing important." Ressler sat down at his desk and twirled a pencil as he waited for Samar and Aram to leave. It didn't take long and as soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, he got up and made his way over to the file cabinet.

Ressler opened the second drawer and scanned the files. On a first glance, nothing looked out of place. He fingered the file folders slowly. Suddenly, he noticed that one had been replaced backwards. He lifted it out and caught his breath as he saw the name on the cover - "Stanley Kornish a/k/a The Stewmaker." He opened the file and quickly noticed that the pages were out of order. He felt a chill down his spine as he realized that the pages on top were those relating to the Stewmaker's chemical recipe. _Whatever it takes_ , he thought as he recalled Samar's words from the day before. Ressler carefully restored the pages to their correct order and replaced the file in the drawer. He glanced at his phone. Liz still hadn't answered his call or his text. _What the hell are you up to, Liz,_ he thought.

He returned to his office, grabbed his keys, and headed for the elevator. As he was heading out, he glanced up and noticed the lights were still on in Cooper's office. Taking the stairs two at a time, he knocked lightly on the open door.

"Late night, sir?" he asked from the doorway.

Cooper looked up and removed his glasses and rubbed his face. "Just finishing up," he replied wearily. "Long day all around. Reddington was happy to get his penny back, though."

"You gave it to him?" Ressler asked. Cooper nodded and gestured for Ressler to take a seat. Ressler could tell his boss had more on his mind than pennies.

"What's going on?" Ressler asked as he took the proffered chair.

Cooper shrugged. "I wish I knew. Bobby Navarro of the Nash Syndicate is missing after a domestic disturbance at his home. Metro PD booked a bloody rag into evidence from his home, but the rag mysteriously vanished from the police evidence vault. The same vault where the penny was booked after the incident at the museum. Yet Reddington claims to know nothing of it. And for once, I actually believe him."

Ressler frowned. "So who do you think stole the rag?"

Cooper shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said slowly.

"You don't think Liz had anything to do with it, do you?" Ressler asked as his mind turned over the various possibilities.

Cooper leaned back in his chair and regarded him grimly. "That's interesting that you're wondering the same thing I'm wondering."

"You don't think she'd go after Navarro alone, without Reddington's help, do you?" Ressler asked, leaning forwards.

"I don't know what to think anymore," Cooper replied. "If Elizabeth feels Reddington is keeping something from her regarding Tom's death, I have no doubt she's capable of going to great lengths to ferret out that information on her own. I hope she decides to share her information with us eventually. Under the right circumstances, I could convince the higher ups to allow us to assist her. But I can't if she shuts us out."

"I've left her a couple of messages," Ressler replied. "I'll let you know if I hear from her."

Cooper nodded. "That's good. Keep on her. In the meanwhile, go home, get some rest, it's been a long day for all of us. Time enough to deal with this tomorrow."

"Goodnight sir," Ressler replied.

Ressler headed down to the parking garage and glanced at his watch. It was probably too late to stop by and pay Liz a visit. But not too late to try to call her again. He pulled out his phone and pressed her number. After a few rings it once again went straight to voicemail. Ressler cleared his throat. "Liz - hey. Just got back from Denver. Give me a call if you're still up. Got some things I want to talk to you about."

As he replaced his phone in his pocket he paused before driving out of the garage. _Navarro's missing and Liz is researching the Stewmaker. She couldn't possibly..?_ Ressler shook his head and put the SUV in gear.

* * *

Across town, Liz glanced at her phone as she once again pressed ignore to allow Ressler's call to go straight to voicemail. He was being unusually persistent in trying to get in touch with her. She couldn't help but feel that he had more than friendly concern on his mind. _He must suspect something_ , she thought. Either way, she wasn't prepared to deal with him tonight. She tossed the phone on the counter and walked into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The skin on her arms was marked in a few places where the acid had splashed her. She traced the marks lightly with her finger. She'd have to make sure to wear sleeves until the marks healed. She pulled up her shirt and examined the dressing on the cut on her abdomen. It appeared to be holding and hopefully she wouldn't end up with too much of a scar. Suddenly, she felt lightheaded and she placed her hands on the side of the sink to steady herself. She tried to remember when she had last eaten. Or had something to drink.

As soon as she felt able, Liz stumbled into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water and forced herself to take small sips. The water helped a little bit, but she needed food too. She opened the fridge and grabbed a yogurt and opened it and ate it quickly. After a few minutes, she started to feel more collected. But she had to admit she was exhausted. Both physically and mentally. All she wanted to do was sleep. As soon as she felt steady enough, she made her way back into the bedroom and crawled under the covers. She was more than ready for the day to be over.

* * *

Liz woke while it was still dark outside, her heart pounding. She felt disoriented and it took her a moment to remember where she was. As she glanced wildly around the dark bedroom, images from her nightmare replayed in her head. The bubbling acid. Navarro's body. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed while she tried to calm her breathing. The smooth wood of the floor grounded her. After a few minutes she got up and made her way into the bathroom.

Liz splashed some cold water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. "You're a monster," she whispered to herself. Just as quickly, she forced the thought from her mind. _You did what you had to do to survive_ , she reminded herself. She stared at her reflection until she felt strong, not ashamed. She headed into the living room and scanned the wall of familiar thug-like faces staring back at her. How she longed to mark Navarro's photo with an X for dead. But she couldn't do that until the death was official. And if she'd done her job well enough, it never would be.

Liz caught a glimpse of her phone on the counter and crossed the room to pick it up _._ She glanced at the notifications from Ressler. Another voicemail. With a sigh, she pressed play. After listening to the message she stared at the phone. Ignoring him was probably causing more red flags than replying would. Barely thinking, she tapped out a text: "Yes, I'm back. Sorry, been super busy. I'll call you soon." She pressed send and only then glanced at the time. She flinched as she realized it was 4 a.m.


	3. Chapter 3

Ressler woke up early, as usual, and glanced at his phone. He was pleasantly surprised to see Liz's text until he saw the time stamp. 4 a.m.? What the hell was she doing up at that hour? He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was, in fact, very wrong. As he showered and shaved, he decided that the only way to know for sure was to see for himself. He left Cooper a message saying he had an errand to run on the way to work and would be late and then grabbed his keys.

When he arrived at Liz's apartment, he hesitated for a moment before knocking. He wasn't in the habit of just showing up at her door unannounced, and especially not first thing in the morning. Maybe she'd just gotten up in the middle of the night to attend to Agnes. He suddenly felt foolish for assuming the worst and he considered turning around and giving up. As he stood weighing what to do, one of Liz's neighbors emerged with her dog from her apartment down the hall. She gave him a curious look and nodded politely before glancing at her watch and then back at Ressler before making her way to the elevator. Ressler groaned inwardly. He knew it looked strange for him to be lurking outside Liz's door so early in the morning. He had to make a decision and either knock or get out of there before someone called the cops. With a sigh, he lightly rapped his knuckles on the door. Not loud enough to wake her if she was sleeping, but loud enough that she'd hear it if she was awake and in the living room. He waited a moment and was relieved to hear Liz's footsteps slowly approaching the door. There was a pause as she glanced through the peephole and then the door swung open.

"Ressler? What are you doing here? It's 7:30 in the morning! Is something wrong?"

"I know, I'm sorry, nothing's wrong" Ressler apologized. "I just got worried when you weren't returning my calls and then I saw you texted me at 4 a.m... I thought I'd stop by on the way to work and make sure everything was okay." As soon as the words left his mouth he realized how ridiculous he sounded.

Liz's expression changed from concerned to mildly irritated as she inhaled sharply and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm fine. I've just been busy. And I couldn't sleep. I forgot what time it was when I texted you. Nothing to worry about."

Ressler nodded slowly as he took in the sight of her. She was pale, but she looked a lot stronger than she had the last time he'd seen her. Her hair was longer and straighter. "It's good to see you," he said softly. "You look good."

Liz bit her lip and smiled faintly. "It's good to see you too," she replied as convincingly as she could manage. They stood in awkward silence for a moment as Liz realized she really had no choice but to invite him inside. Trying to put him off would only raise more red flags.

"Come in," she said reluctantly as she stepped aside to allow him to pass by. As she closed the door and followed him into the apartment, she steeled herself for his inevitable questions.

Ressler walked into the living room and froze as his eyes took in the scene. A single chair and lamp were the only furniture in the room. The wall that had once held shelves and knickknacks was now a wall of crime scene photos and clues. Piles of boxes lined the walls. The place looked like a crime scene investigation, not a home.

"Liz," he began as he turned to her, eyes wide.

"Don't" Liz snapped as she brushed past him into the kitchen. "Just don't. I need answers, Ressler. You of all people should understand that." She began furiously washing a bowl in the sink.

"Hey, I do," Ressler came up behind her and put one hand lightly on each shoulder. "Liz, stop." To her frustration, he reached across her and turned off the sink. "Look at me," he said gently.

Liz turned slowly and looked up at him. There was a coldness in her eyes that made him catch his breath.

"I'm sorry that we weren't able to do more to catch Tom's killers while you were…" he looked at her pleadingly. "I wanted to, I tried, I —"

Liz exhaled. "I know. It's not your fault. Reddington wasn't supplying any information and the Bureau shut it down and handed the whole thing over to Metro PD. Cooper told me."

"Is that why you left?" Ressler asked tentatively. The question had been weighing on his mind ever since the last time he had seen her.

Liz shook her head. "Part of it, maybe. I don't know anymore. I needed time away to get strong again. So I could find out the truth for myself."

"Well, like I said before, you look good," Ressler smiled slightly. "You look like your old self."

"Don't let appearances fool you," Liz replied bitterly. "I'm not the same person I was, Ressler. I don't think I'll ever be the same."

Ressler's smile faded and he looked at her somberly. "I wouldn't expect that you would be. I don't think any of us are the same people we were, Liz. I know I'm not."

Liz held his gaze for a moment and she could see he meant it. A year was a long time. Her expression softened. "So, now that you're here, any thoughts?" she asked as she gestured towards the wall of photos. Ressler turned and walked over to the wall and studied the photos. His jaw twitched. Every time he looked at photos of the scene, all he could remember was the overwhelming sight and smell of blood. He'd barely registered the faces associated with the bodies littered around the room.

"We found out they were all Nash Syndicate guys," Ressler said as he scanned the photos. "What we were never able to do was to tie the syndicate to Tom or to Nik - or to Reddington for that matter."

Liz briefly debated telling him about Navarro but quickly dismissed the thought. She couldn't explain how she'd gotten the information without him becoming suspicious that she knew something about Navarro's disappearance. She wasn't prepared to admit to Ressler - or anyone - that she'd killed him, much less that she'd basically become a cleaner on top of it.

Suddenly, Ressler turned and looked around the apartment as it dawned on him he hadn't seen any sign of a child's presence in the barren space. "Where's Agnes?"

Liz immediately looked uncomfortable and cast her eyes downward. "She's with her grandmother," she replied tersely. "Until it's safe for her to come home."

Liz looked up in time to see an expression of horror pass across Ressler's face. "You gave Agnes to Scottie Hargrave?" he stammered.

Liz felt defensive once again. "Yes, I did. What choice did I have? Tom's killers are still out there. I can't protect Agnes here." She glared at Ressler, daring him to challenge her.

Ressler opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again. To her surprise, he crossed the room in two steps and wrapped his arms around her.

"I understand," he murmured softly. "I'm sorry."

Whatever Liz had expected from him, it wasn't that. She closed her eyes and allowed him to pull her close against his chest. She fought back tears as he rubbed his hand slowly up and down her back. She'd been afraid to tell him - any of them - about her decision regarding Agnes. After a few moments she pulled back and looked up at him, eyes glistening.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Ressler asked.

"For not judging me for it," Liz replied. "Believe me, it wasn't an easy decision."

"How about you let me buy you breakfast?" Ressler asked as took his thumb and brushed a tear from her cheek. Liz hesitated for a moment. The offer was tempting. But she was eager to go see Reddington and work on figuring out the mystery of Navarro's eye.

"Not today," she replied apologetically, "I'm meeting Reddington. But I'll take a rain check."

"I'm counting on it," Ressler replied. Liz walked him to the door. Before he left, he turned and held her gaze. "You need anything, you let me know," he said. "I want to help. On book, off book, whatever you need."

Liz nodded. "Thank you," she whispered again. "I'll call you."

As she closed the door behind him she leaned against it and closed her eyes. _If you only knew_ ….

* * *

Two days later, Ressler sat in his office typing up a report on their arrest of the arsonist Tommy Wattles. He glanced at his watch. He was supposed to testify at Earl Fagen's parole board hearing in two hours.

"Did you ever get in touch with Liz?" Ressler looked up to see Samar leaning in the doorway of his office.

He leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I talked to her a couple of days ago - why?"

"I saw her this morning, at Reddington's," Samar replied. "She told me she thinks they found Tom's killer, but she wouldn't tell me anything more than that. I offered to help, to call it in, but she brushed me off. I told her I didn't think she should be handling it on her own. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

Ressler digested that information. "You said they - she's working with Reddington?"

"It seemed that way," Samar replied. "He was there. What was your impression when you spoke to her? Same as mine that she's not coming back?"

Ressler shrugged. "Yeah. I definitely don't think she's planning to hunt Blacklisters with us any time soon."

Samar paused for a moment before replying. "Well, that's probably for the best for now. She needs to focus on Agnes."

"She doesn't have Agnes," Ressler replied.

Samar raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't? Then who does?"

Ressler pursed his lips. "Scottie Hargave." He could hardly keep the contempt out of his tone.

"She's given her child to the woman who tried to kidnap her and nearly got the two of them killed?" Samar asked in disbelief.

Ressler nodded. "Tom's mother. Apparently, Liz feels Agnes is safer with her until Tom's killers are caught."

Samar shook her head. "No wonder Reddington clams up every time I try to talk to him about Liz. He can't be happy about that decision."

"I wouldn't think so," Ressler agreed. In fact, if he knew Reddington, the man was not only unhappy, he was probably downright livid at the situation.

"Well, that does put things in a different light," Samar continued. "Look, she still needs to be careful. If there's anything I can do…."

"I told her was prepared to help her. I'll try reaching out again," Ressler replied.

"That's good. Keep me posted." Samar replied as she turned and left the office. After she left, Ressler twirled a pencil between his fingers. Liz had been on his mind since he'd left her apartment. He reached for his phone and pressed her number. He wasn't surprised when the call once again went straight to voicemail.

"Liz, Samar tells me you've got a lead. Don't go in blind. Let us help. Call me." As he replaced the phone on the desk, he had a feeling he wasn't going to hear from her anytime soon. At least if she was working with Reddington instead of on her own, she should be reasonably safe.

* * *

Liz unlocked the door of her apartment and threw her bag on the floor in frustration. She didn't know whether she wanted to scream or cry. She honestly felt like doing both. She didn't know what was worse - Reddington confirming that he knew the secret that Tom had died trying to share with her or the knowledge that Damascus had slipped through her fingers because Reddington had held her back from confronting him. Navarro's eye had been her best lead. But it had brought her nothing. Nothing except a taunting note reminding her that someone out there knew the truth that Reddington was keeping from her. She sank into her chair and pressed her knuckles against her lips as she struggled to maintain control.

Reddington had thought it would help her to see Agnes, even if it was just a glimpse through the window of her Gymboree class. Instead, it had only made things worse. Her daughter, right in front of her, and she couldn't even speak to her or hold her. She hadn't said a word to Reddington after they'd left the class. The more she thought about it, the more emotional she became. Liz's eyes darted wildly around the apartment. Every corner held memories. Memories of Tom, of Agnes, of their life together. The life that had been ripped apart. She'd tried to keep the memories packed away in boxes but it just wasn't working. As the tears flowed, Liz knew she had to get out of there. She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the apartment without a backward glance.

Barely thinking, she drove to the river and parked near the water's edge. As she stared at the swirling water, she wondered if the despair she felt right now compared to how her mother had felt when she'd walked into the ocean all those years ago. Had she felt peace in the end? Walking away from it all? From her? Liz tried to push the thoughts of her mother out of her mind. _You're not like her_ , she whispered to herself. _You're stronger_. _You're going to stay and fight._

She sat there for a long time. As the daylight faded, Liz finally pulled out her phone to check the time and saw she had another voicemail from Ressler. Grateful for the distraction, she listened to his message and then stared at her phone, weighing whether to call him back. He'd been sympathetic the other day. Was it too much to lean on him now? She felt like she was drowning in her own misery and it wasn't a good feeling. The thought of going back to her apartment, alone, was almost more than she could bear. Before she could change her mind, she pressed his number.

"Liz?" Ressler answered on the second ring. "Everything ok?"

Liz closed her eyes and swallowed hard. _No, everything is not ok_. "I was wondering if I could take you up on that raincheck?" she asked as she tried to keep her voice steady.

"Tonight?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Unless you have plans, of course," Liz added hastily. _Please don't have plans,_ she thought.

"No, tonight's fine. You want me to pick you up?" Ressler asked.

"Are you home?" Liz asked.

"Yeah."

"Then I'll come to you. I'm already in the car," Liz replied. She knew she sounded shaky and he must be wondering why.

"Ok, see you soon," he replied simply.

Liz dropped her phone in her purse with shaking hands and turned on the engine. She couldn't get away from that river fast enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Ressler answered the door dressed casually in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans. He could tell as soon as he laid eyes on Liz that something was wrong. She greeted him with a weak smile but her eyes were red as if she'd been crying. He stepped aside and held the door open as she moved past him into the apartment.

"Sorry for barging in on you so suddenly," Liz said as she took a seat on the couch.

"It's no trouble," Ressler replied. "I just got home a little while ago. You want to go out? I can change into something better. Or do you want to order in?" He had a feeling he knew what her answer was going to be but figured he'd give her the choice.

"No need to change. I'd rather order in, if you don't mind," Liz replied. "I don't know if I'm in the right frame of mind to sit in a restaurant."

Ressler nodded. "Rough day?" he asked.

"You could say that," Liz replied wearily.

Ressler went into the kitchen to retrieve his stash of take out menus. "You want a drink?" he called as he rummaged in a drawer.

Yes, she wanted a drink. Probably several "Sure," she replied.

Ressler poked his head out of the kitchen. "Beer? Wine? Something stronger?"

Liz thought for a moment. "Beer for now. Maybe something stronger later."

Ressler emerged from the kitchen with two beers and handed her one along with an assortment of menus. "Go ahead and pick a place. I like all of them. We better get some food in you if you're already thinking about stronger drink."

Liz smiled faintly as she accepted the beer. "You're probably right," she agreed. She scanned the menus quickly. "Mexican?" she asked.

"Works for me," Ressler replied.

After placing the order, Ressler leaned back in a chair across from Liz and took a sip of his beer. "So you want to tell me what happened today? Samar said you had a lead?"

Liz took a deep breath. "I did," she began slowly, "but it ended up getting me nowhere in the end."

Without getting into the specifics of the eye or the age of Reddington's consultant, Liz filled him in on what had happened. As he listened to the story, Ressler frowned and leaned forward in his chair.

"So you're saying you were in a basement with an unknown number of unsubs upstairs and you're upset with Reddington because he made you leave without confronting them?"

Liz's eyes flashed. "I know you probably think Reddington made the right choice," she snapped, "but this was my _one_ chance - my _one_ lead - and we left without even trying to figure out who they were!" Liz set her now empty beer bottle down on the table with a bang that caused Ressler to flinch.

"I understand that," Ressler said slowly. "But it's not worth risking your life, Liz."

"What life?" Liz replied bitterly. "You've seen my apartment. I'm not living, I'm existing. And that's all I can do until I get to the bottom of who killed Tom and why."

"Liz…" Ressler began gently, looking genuinely concerned.

"And it gets worse," she added sharply, cutting him off.

Ressler watched her for a moment. She was radiating tension, but as far as he could tell was more angry than upset.

"Is this the part where I offer you something stronger?" Ressler asked lightly, hoping to defuse the mood.

Liz blinked at him, before a tiny smile appeared. "What have you got?" she asked.

Ressler got up and made his way over to the bar and glanced at the bottles. "I've got whiskey I stole from Red, tequila, a Russian vodka that's pretty good…"

Liz stared at him, bemused. "You stole a bottle of whiskey from Reddington?"

Ressler shrugged. "It's a long story. I'll tell you someday. Pick your poison."

Liz thought for a moment. "Tequila," she replied. "It'll go well with the Mexican food." Ressler nodded and poured two shots and set them on the coffee table along with the bottle. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a few slices of lime before resuming his seat opposite her and picking up his glass.

"Bottom's up," he murmured before downing the shot and reaching for a slice of lime. He watched as Liz downed the shot in one swallow, barely wincing as the tequila burned her throat.

Ressler eyed her for a moment before refilling her glass. "So you were saying - it gets worse?"

Liz took a small sip of the second shot and nodded. "Reddington admitted that he knows what Tom wanted to tell me before he died. He knows why he was killed and it has something to do with Reddington- a secret - but he won't tell me what it is. He refuses."

Ressler shook his head. No wonder she was upset. "He won't tell you now? Or he won't tell you ever?"

"Ever," Liz replied bitterly. "Tom died because of this secret. I've given up my daughter because of it. But none of that matters to him. All he cares about is making sure it stays secret." Liz balled her hand into a fist. "And to add insult to injury he took me to see Agnes today," Liz's voice broke slightly as she struggled for control. "I watched her through the window of her Gymboree class. She looked so - alone. Like she wasn't really having fun. And I don't even know why. I don't know whether she's happy or sad. I just…" her voice trailed off.

Ressler reached across the table and put his hand on her knee. "Hey. Hey," he murmured gently as he patted her leg. "You're gonna get through this. I know you will. She'll be fine. Why don't you let us help you with Reddington? Samar said she offered…"

"She did," Liz sighed. "But - I can't ask you all to get involved. Not yet. Not until I know more about who I'm dealing with and why."

"I want to help, Liz," Ressler said quietly but firmly. "I think it's a mistake to shut us out. There are things we can do that you can't do on your own."

Liz shook her head. She was pretty sure if he knew what she'd really been up to he'd be far less sympathetic. "I know you mean well," she replied earnestly. "And I appreciate it. But I've got to do this on my own for now."

The doorbell rang before Ressler could reply and he got up to answer the door and pay for their food. While he was gone, Liz headed into the bathroom. She was already feeling a little lightheaded from the two shots of tequila on top of the bottle of beer but the alcohol was having the desired effect of numbing the overwhelming feeling of rage and despair that had brought her to Ressler's doorstep in the first place.

When she emerged, she found Ressler setting two places at the table and unpacking the food. He glanced up as she came closer. "Let's get some food in you," he said as he scanned her face.

"The buzz feels good," Liz replied as lightly as she could manage. "So bring me another beer if you don't mind. And let's talk about something else for a while. Tell me what's going on with Samar and Aram. Tell me what's been going on with you since I left. I desperately need some distraction."

* * *

Two hours passed before she knew it as Ressler tried to keep the mood light by sharing stories of Samar and Aram's developing relationship and a few of the cases Red had tasked them with in her absence. He carefully avoided any mention of Henry Prescott and the multitude of jobs Prescott had forced him to perform. Liz filled him in on some of the smaller details of her life in Alaska, carefully omitting anything that gave away exactly where she'd been or why she'd left. By the time she stood up from the table to help him clear the remnants of their meal, she'd consumed enough alcohol that she stumbled slightly and fought to regain her balance. Ressler caught her by the elbow until she was steady.

"You're in no condition to drive," he said in a tone she couldn't argue with. "I'm probably not either," he added. "I can call you a cab and you can get your car tomorrow, or you're welcome to stay."

Liz hesitated for a moment. On the one hand, she didn't want to be a burden on him. On the other hand, she felt relaxed in Ressler's company and the alcohol was giving her a warm feeling inside. She wasn't quite ready to go back to the quiet loneliness of her apartment. She hadn't realized how much she'd been craving human contact until now. She glanced around the small apartment.

"I don't want to impose," she began slowly.

"Liz, it's no trouble for you to stay," Ressler interjected. "Honestly, I'd feel better if you stayed than I would putting you in a cab and sending you home like this." He couldn't help but notice that she was bobbing slightly as she looked at him.

Liz made her way unsteadily into the living room and settled herself on the couch once more. "Ok, I'll stay," she agreed. Ressler nodded and turned to head into the kitchen. "Water?" he asked.

"Not yet," Liz replied. "Bring me one more."

Ressler poked his head out of the kitchen and arched a ginger eyebrow. "You sure?" When she nodded, he disappeared and re-emerged with two more beers.

"I don't think you'll be thanking me for this tomorrow," he said as he handed one to her.

Liz chuckled. "Maybe not, but I'm thanking you now. Cheers," she added as she clinked her bottle against his.

* * *

As the evening wore on, Liz's mood became more somber. "Can I ask you something?" she asked. Ressler had moved so that he was now sitting next to her on the couch. Liz had slipped off her shoes and was sitting with her legs curled underneath her.

Ressler nodded slowly. "Sure, what?"

"Does it get…easier?" Liz asked tentatively. "Missing them I mean." She glanced around the apartment. "I notice you don't have any pictures out of Audrey. Is that because you want to forget? Do you still think about her?"

"Of course I still think about her," Ressler replied as he gazed off into the distance. "I don't keep pictures out because…" his voice trailed off. "It's hard to explain," he said as he shifted position on the couch. He licked his lips as he struggled to find the words to convey what he wanted to convey.

"I think about her a lot," he said slowly. "But only when I'm ready to. I can't - I can't walk in the apartment and look at her picture every night. I keep them in my room. I pull them out when I want to see them. When I'm ready to see them," he added. "But, it does get easier over time. You don't forget, but it doesn't hurt so much to think of her anymore. I'm able to remember the good times instead of just those final moments."

Liz bit her lip and nodded. "That's what I struggle with. I want to remember the good things but all I can think about is that last day, those last moments, the music, and the knife…" Her voice trailed off as she blinked rapidly.

Ressler leaned over and put his arm around her and pulled her against him so that her cheek was resting on his chest. Liz closed her eyes and inhaled as she fought back tears. She could smell his freshly laundered t-shirt mixed with the slight scent of his aftershave.

"It does get better," he replied more reassuringly. "I promise. It just takes time."

Liz could hear the steady beat of his heart as her head rested on his chest and the sound was reassuring. Between the alcohol and the emotions of the day she was exhausted. She felt herself growing more and more drowsy as he rubbed her arm gently with his hand. Eventually she closed her eyes.

* * *

Ressler woke with a start and realized that he was still on the couch and that Liz had fallen asleep on his chest. He glanced at his watch. It was after 1 a.m. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He brushed his hand across his eyes as he tried to shake the cobwebs.

"Liz," he whispered as he shook her gently, but she didn't stir. Ressler weighed what to do. He hated to disturb her, but his neck and shoulders were stiff from being upright for so long and he needed to use the bathroom so falling back asleep wasn't really an option. After a few minutes, he gently moved Liz off his chest until she was lying curled on the couch. He got up, used the bathroom and then returned the living room. Liz hadn't moved from the position he had left her in. He stumbled into the bedroom and pulled on a clean t-shirt and shorts. Barely awake, he retrieved clean sheets from the linen closet and re-made his bed. He grabbed his own pillow and a blanket and headed back to the living room. He'd let her have the bed and take the couch himself. Better that she should be comfortable whenever she woke up.

He carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She opened her eyes briefly as her head hit the pillow and blinked at him confused.

"It's ok, go back to sleep," he whispered as he smoothed her hair and pulled the sheets over her. Liz nodded and rolled on her side and resumed her steady breathing. Ressler watched her for a moment before he closed the door and made his way back to the couch.

* * *

Liz woke while it was still dark outside. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like cotton. She sat up slowly and blinked at the unfamiliar room before realizing where she was. Ressler's room. The last thing she remembered was feeling sleepy as her head rested on his chest. As she thought more about it, she vaguely remembered being lifted and carried into bed. She felt embarrassed as she realized she must've fallen asleep on him like a child. Her stomach lurched as she stumbled into the bathroom. All the tequila and beer was coming back to haunt her. She noticed that Ressler had left a bottle of aspirin on the counter and grabbed a couple of them gratefully. She stumbled back to bed and lay on her back and hoped that the nausea and headache would subside. Eventually, she fell back into a restless sleep.

* * *

The next time she woke up, it was light outside and she smelled coffee. Her head still hurt but not nearly as badly as it had the last time she'd woken up. Ressler looked up as she entered the kitchen.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" he asked tentatively as he scanned her up and down.

Liz shrugged. "I've been better but I guess a hangover was inevitable with how much I had to drink last night."

"I probably should have cut you off at some point," Ressler replied apologetically.

Liz shook her head. "Nah. I think I needed to cut loose for one night. Thanks for listening. I wasn't in a good place to be on my own last night."

"Anytime, Liz," Ressler said sincerely. "Anytime. You want coffee?"

Liz nodded gratefully and he got up and poured her a mug. Without needing to ask he put a little cream in it and handed it to her. He knew how she took her coffee after all their years of working together.

"You want something to eat?" he asked. Liz shook her head.

"I don't think that's such a good idea. I'll stick with coffee for now."

"Ok, well, I'm gonna go shower and get ready for work. Help yourself to anything you want." He put his own mug in the sink and headed into the bedroom.

Liz took her coffee into the living room and scanned his bookcase to pass the time. He had a handful of family photos, lots of sports memorabilia, and a pretty decent collection of books. Somehow it didn't surprise her that Ressler was a reader.

Fifteen minutes later he emerged showered, shaved and dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Do you want to shower here?" he asked.

Liz shook her head. "No, I'm going to head home. Thanks for last night. I really appreciate it," she said softly.

"Alright," he replied. "Be careful. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

"I will," she replied.


	5. Chapter 5

"I spoke to Liz. She's going to meet us at the hospital so Reddington can question him," Samar said as she gestured toward their prisoner, Bobby, one of the members of the Invisible Hand who the paramedics were loading into a waiting ambulance. Samar took in Ressler's disheveled appearance. He was covered in dust from chasing and tackling one of the other members of the group who was being transported separately. "You look like hell," she said. "You want me to drive?"

Ressler hesitated only for a moment before he nodded and flipped her the keys. He almost always drove anywhere they went but he was exhausted. Under the circumstances, it was probably safer to let Samar drive.

"Thanks," he murmured as he slid into the unfamiliar territory of the passenger seat.

"Anytime," Samar replied.

As they followed the ambulance to the hospital, Ressler stared bleakly out the window, oblivious to the glances Samar kept throwing him from the driver's seat.

"What's going on?" she said finally.

Ressler turned and gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what's going on with _you_ ," Samar replied. "You've barely said a word since we left Brenford. Is everything alright?"

Ressler exhaled. "I'm fine. Long day. Chasing these guys through the toxic tundra didn't help." He looked down at the dust on his suit before resuming staring out the window.

"I understand all of that," Samar said calmly. "But what's really on your mind?"

Ressler turned to face her again and was met with a piercing look. _Damn, she was good. She always knew when something was off._

He licked his lips, not sure how to articulate his thoughts. "This group…they started putting people in the ground because they'd lost everyone and everything they cared about and they wanted revenge. But that one lady…"

"Sophia?" Samar interjected.

"Yeah. She had kids. And a husband. And it still wasn't enough to make her stop. Getting revenge was more important than anything. I just —"

"You're worried about Liz," Samar said matter-of-factly.

Ressler pursed his lips and nodded.

"I share your concerns," she continued as she turned her eyes back to the road.

"Good to know, but that doesn't make me feel better," Ressler replied. "There has to be something we can do."

"If she wants our help, she'll ask for it," Samar replied coolly. "And if she's not asking, I'm sure she has a reason for that."

"So she can be off book," Ressler replied tightly.

Samar nodded. "Something like that," she agreed. "Look, Reddington isn't going to let anything happen to her."

"He wasn't able to prevent her from landing in a coma for ten months and nearly dying," Ressler remarked grimly. "So forgive me if I'm no longer so confident about that."

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, Ressler glanced down at his filthy suit.

"You want me to come up with you?" he asked.

Samar smiled faintly as she looked him up and down. "No, I can handle this. They're not going to want you anywhere near a sterile room. Wait here. I'll be back as soon as I can." Ressler leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes.

A short while later, he heard a tapping on the car window and he opened his eyes to find Liz on the other side of the glass. He hadn't seen her in a week since she'd spent the night at his apartment. He rolled down the window.

"Hey," he said. "Did Reddington get to talk to the guy?"

Liz nodded. "Yes. We're heading out in a minute." She glanced at his dusty suit. "Rough day?"

"Yeah," Ressler replied ruefullly. A hint of a smile crossed Liz's face.

"You get anything out of Bobby?" Ressler asked. Liz's smile faded and her expression became immediately more serious.

"Maybe," she replied. "I'll call you later, ok?" With a quick wave she was gone. Ressler looked up and met Reddington's steely eyes as he waited for Liz down the street. The criminal gave him a curt nod and then turned to open the door of his Mercedes for Liz.

Samar appeared a moment later and slid back behind the wheel.

"You know where they're headed?" Ressler asked as he watched the Mercedes peel away.

"What do you think?" Samar replied as she rolled her eyes.

"I don't like it," Ressler muttered.

* * *

The next day, Ressler was typing up his case report when Aram poked his head into his office.

"Mr. Cooper wants to see you," Aram said.

"About what?" Ressler asked.

"I don't know but if I had to guess…" Aram's voice trailed off.

"What's going on, Aram?" Ressler asked curtly.

"I just saw Agent Keen leave his office and step into the elevator." Aram replied, sounding both excited and anxious.

"Did you talk to her?" Ressler asked as he got up and started walking across the war room.

Aram shook his head. "No, she came downstairs and left without saying anything."

Ressler arched an eyebrow and took the stairs two at a time to Cooper's office.

"Sir? Aram said you wanted to see me?" Ressler asked.

Cooper looked up and smiled slightly as he gestured towards a chair. Ressler sat. "I have some news," Cooper began. "Agent Keen just came to see me."

"And?" Ressler asked as he leaned forward in the chair and rubbed his hands on his knees.

"She wants to be reinstated as an agent," Cooper replied as he leaned back in his chair and waited for Ressler's reaction.

Ressler took a moment to process that news. "She wants her badge back? Did she say why?" he asked with a frown. He'd had the impression from Liz that the last thing she was interested in was re-joining the Task Force.

Cooper exhaled. "It seems that she and Reddington are of the view that the person behind Tom's murder is a dirty cop."

Ressler's eyes widened. "What kind of a cop?" he asked slowly.

"We don't know," Cooper replied. "But Elizabeth feels it would benefit her to have her badge in order to find out."

"So that's it? She just comes back like nothing happened?" Ressler asked.

"Not exactly," Cooper replied. "The Bureau is requiring a psych eval. Once that's cleared, she can report for duty."

"And how does Reddington feel about this?" Ressler asked.

"I don't know," Cooper replied. "She didn't say."

Back in his own office, Ressler twirled a pencil in his hand as he digested Cooper's news. A dirty cop? Why would a cop want to kill Tom Keen? It made no sense.

Eventually, he picked up the phone. "Liz - Cooper told me the news. Call me."

* * *

Ressler was getting ready to leave for the day by the time Liz finally returned his call. He loosened his tie as he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back sooner," Liz began. "I had some stuff to take care of." She fingered the grainy photos of Singleton in her apartment before tossing them on the kitchen counter.

"Cooper told me you want to be reinstated. That's great," Ressler said.

"Don't get too excited," Liz replied curtly. "The only case I'm interested in working on is Tom's murder."

Ressler licked his lips. "I'm not sure the Bureau's going to let you work only on one case."

"The Bureau will let me work on whatever Reddington wants me to work on and I intend to make it perfectly clear to Reddington that this case is the priority. Nothing else," she replied coldly.

Ressler's jaw twitched. Liz was nothing if not determined. "When's the psych eval?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," Liz replied.

"Dr. Friedman?" Ressler asked.

Liz made a sound that almost sounded like a laugh. "No, someone new. A Dr. Fulton."

"Well, hopefully she'll have better luck with you than Dr. Friedman had with me," Ressler replied lightly.

This time Liz laughed genuinely. "She was so mad at you. I really thought she was going to suspend you. And then it turned out I was the one she had issues with…" her voice trailed off as they both remembered the reason why. Dr. Friedman had felt that Liz wasn't properly grieving Tom who, of course, at that time wasn't really dead but was instead Liz's prisoner in the hull of a ship.

"That was a long time ago," Ressler replied quietly.

"It was," Liz agreed.

"Listen - I was about to head out. You want me to stop by? We can grab a bite if you haven't eaten and you can fill me on on why you think a dirty cop was involved in Tom's death."

Liz's eyes flickered once more to the surveillance photos of Singleton on the counter. On the one hand, the offer was tempting. Ressler might have some insight she hadn't thought of. She'd meant it when she'd told Cooper she was going to need their help. On the other hand…she took a deep breath. "Sure, why not. No tequila this time though. It took more me than a day to feel human the last time."

Ressler's laughter rumbled through the phone. "No tequila. I'll pick you up in 20."

* * *

Ressler left his car parked in front of Liz's apartment building and they walked a few blocks to a small Italian restaurant. The place was more than half empty since it was a weeknight and they had no trouble securing a quiet table near the back of the restaurant.

"You want wine or are we swearing off alcohol altogether tonight?" Ressler asked as he scanned the menu.

"Wine is fine," Liz replied with a laugh. "Just cut me off if I even think about having more than two glasses. I need to get through this therapy session tomorrow."

After their drinks arrived, Ressler shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He took a sip of his wine.

"So, what've you got. What's your lead?"

Liz filled him in on how she and Red had pursued the Toymaker, carefully omitting details of exactly what sort of high tech surveillance equipment they had showed him. She was grateful Ressler didn't probe too deeply on that particular point.

"So you think the guy who hired this Toymaker was a cop?" Ressler said. "That still doesn't explain why a dirty cop would get mixed up with Tom, much less kill him."

"No, but I have an additional lead," Liz reached into her purse and pulled out the photos of Singleton she had printed from her surveillance camera.

"Who's this?" Ressler asked as he looked at the photo. "This is your apartment," he realized as he studied it more closely.

"Yes, and that's the lead detective from Metro PD who's investigating Tom's murder. Standing in my apartment when I'm not home." Liz replied. Her tone had an edge to it.

"In your apartment - Liz - how did he..?" Ressler gaped at her.

"He somehow jimmied the lock," Liz replied. "I had the cameras installed because I had some…suspicions."

Ressler stared at the photos again as a slow flush began to creep from his collar up his face. He tossed them on the table and leaned forward. "You can't stay there alone. Not until we bring this guy in and find out what he wants. It's not safe."

Liz shook her head. "You sound like Reddington. Please don't overreact. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"Does Reddington know about these photos?" Ressler asked.

"Not yet," Liz replied. "I'll show him tomorrow."

"Liz, I'm serious. You can't stay there alone tonight. What if this guy comes back?" Ressler insisted.

"He's a cop. He's not going to hurt me," Liz replied firmly. "I can handle this."

Liz watched as Ressler's mouth tightened and his jaw twitched, sure signs that he was agitated. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then promptly closed it again. After a moment, he exhaled loudly and then held her gaze, eyes blazing.

"I know you think you can, Liz but - what if you're wrong? How many times do you have to get hurt before you'll think twice about the risk."

"Ressler…"

"No, Liz. Don't. Don't make an excuse. How many times do I have to see you a stretcher?" He looked away and blinked rapidly.

Liz brought her fingers up to her lips. She hadn't thought through how he would react to the photos but judging by his face he was clearly upset.

"Ressler, that's not fair" she tried again as she reached across the table and rested her hand on his arm. His freckles glowed in the soft light from the candle on the table. "Listen to me."

Ressler gave her a tortured look. "No, Liz. You need to listen to _me_. We don't know anything about this guy except that it seems he's somehow connected to the people who murdered Tom in the same apartment you're living in. An apartment belonging to a federal agent, but that's not stopping him from breaking in broad daylight. Now he knows from your wall that you're investigating the case, that you're not just a victim. What makes you think he's not gonna be there waiting when we get back from dinner? So the way I see it, you've got two choices. We finish dinner, we go back to your place. You can pack a bag and I'll take you wherever you want - a hotel, my place, Reddington's place. You name it. Or I can sleep on your chair or your living room floor or outside the door in the hallway if it comes to it. But I am not leaving you alone in that apartment unless you have better security than a couple of cameras."

Liz felt like his eyes were burning a hole in hers. Her first instinct was to protest further but instead she held his gaze for a moment and then lowered her eyes and sat back in her chair.

"Ok," she agreed, resigned.

"Ok what?" Ressler asked warily. Liz didn't usually give in easily on anything.

"Ok. I won't stay alone tonight. And I won't make you sleep on my floor. And certainly not in the hallway. We'll figure out where I'm going after we eat. Ok?"

Ressler exhaled. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" Liz asked.

"For not making me sleep on the floor." His expression was so solemn that Liz couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"You realize you worry too much, right?" Liz replied with a laugh.

Ressler didn't laugh. "Sometimes I think I don't worry enough," he replied in a low voice.

* * *

After dinner, they returned to Liz's apartment. Ressler insisted on entering first, gun drawn, to make sure the coast was clear. Liz followed him and headed into the bedroom and threw some clothes and and toiletries into a bag.

"This really feels like overkill," she remarked as she emerged with the bag.

"Maybe so," Ressler replied. "But I'd rather be safe than sorry." His eyes scanned the apartment as if he expected Singleton to break in at any moment.

"Well, I'll go along with this for just this one night on one condition," Liz said.

"What's that?"

"You let me take the couch this time. I'm not kicking you out of your bed again."

Ressler pursed his lips. "Deal," he agreed reluctantly.

* * *

Ressler woke at 3 a.m. to the sound of a muffled scream coming from his living room. Instinctively, he bolted out of bed, grabbed his gun, and quickly opened the bedroom door. He scanned the corridor as he moved as quickly as he could towards the living room. As his eyes scanned the dimly lit room for an intruder, he saw only Liz moving restlessly on the couch. As he drew closer, Liz moaned and thrashed as if she was being suffocated. A nightmare. Ressler quickly placed his gun on a chair and made his way over to the couch. He knelt on the floor next to Liz and touched her face gently with his hands.

"Liz," he murmured. "Liz, wake up."

Liz's eyes flew open as she gasped and quickly sat upright. Ressler dropped his hand from her face to her back and rubbed it gently.

"It's ok. It was just a nightmare," he said softly.

Liz's eyes scanned his face wildly and then the room as she sought to place her surroundings. Gradually her breathing slowed to a more normal rate. Ressler reached up and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she said haltingly.

"Don't apologize," Ressler replied firmly. "I'll get you some water. Be right back." He got up and headed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of water, which Liz accepted gratefully.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked as he perched on the edge of the couch and put a hand on her leg. Liz shook her head wordlessly and took a small sip of water.

"I still have nightmares sometimes too," Ressler offered. "Not as often now but - it's perfectly normal."

Liz nodded but inside she felt like crying. Ressler thought her nightmare was about Tom's murder. She couldn't tell him the truth. The truth was her nightmare had been about herself. In her dream, she had pushed a very much alive Damascus into an acid bath just like Reddington had once done to the Stewmaker. When she'd turned to look in the mirror, her whole face was distorted, like a monster's.

"Why don't you try to fall back asleep," Ressler said encouragingly. "I'll sit here for a little bit. Maybe help keep the nightmare away."

"Ok," Liz agreed in a small voice as she lay back down on her side. She didn't deserve his affection. She didn't deserve anyone's affection.

"I'll be right here," Ressler said reassuringly as Liz closed her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"I showed Reddington the photos of Singleton in my apartment," Liz informed Ressler the next morning by phone. She heard him exhale on the other end of the line.

"Good. How did he react?"

"How do you think he reacted?" Liz replied. She bit her lip as Ressler chuckled.

"A team of guards outside your door, I hope?"

"He wasn't pleased, I can tell you that much. Listen, I have to go meet the doctor for the psych eval. I'll be fine, ok?" She tapped her fingers nervously on the kitchen counter as she waited to see if he would take the bait.

"Ok, catch you later," Ressler said. "Good luck with the doc."

Liz tossed the phone on the counter. She didn't like telling lies - or even half lies - to Ressler. But she really had no choice. She had told him the truth insofar as she had shown the photos to Reddington. But she'd allowed him to draw his own conclusions as to Reddington's reaction. The truth was, she had forbidden Reddington from upping her security. She _wanted_ Singleton to make another attempt. This time, she would be prepared.

She headed into the bathroom to check her makeup. Ressler's raw concern for her well-being the night before had made her realize she was losing focus by continuing to reach out to him for support. The more she told him, the more he would worry. He was never going to be comfortable with her taking risks to catch Tom's killers. But risk was the only way she was going to find them. She was going to have to stick to going it alone if she didn't want to get sidetracked. Liz reapplied her lip gloss and stared at her reflection. _Show time_ , she thought.

* * *

Three days later, Liz sat in her car outside Dr. Fulton's office, her mind swirling. Nothing about their sessions had gone as planned. The doctor seemed strangely fascinated with Reddington and almost supportive of Liz's anger and desire for revenge. She felt like the doctor was actually encouraging her to break the law or "paint outside the lines," as she put it.

As she drove home, Dr. Fulton's warning that she needed a reckoning echoed in her mind. She needed a reckoning alright - with Tom's killer standing in front of her. But the doctor seemed to imply that she needed more than that. Liz wasn't ready to face those implications just yet.

When she arrived at her apartment, Liz immediately noticed that the door to the apartment was slightly ajar. She swiftly reached for her gun and made her way into the apartment to confront Singleton.

* * *

"Ressler, Navabi, a word?" Cooper said as they stepped out of the elevator. Ressler and Samar exchanged glances as they made their way up the stairs to Cooper's office.

"What's going on?" Ressler asked as he took a chair.

"There's been a development. Agent Keen has requested permission to bring a detective from the Metro PD to this black site and tell him about the work that we do."

Ressler frowned. "Detective Singleton? She wants to bring Singleton here?"

Cooper nodded. "Yes, and I've given her permission to do that."

Ressler shook his head, "She thought that guy was dirty. He broke into her apartment. He's connected to Tom's killers. She can't just walk him in here and…"

Cooper held up a hand. "I understand you're upset, Agent Ressler. Agent Keen warned me that you might be and she asked me to be sure to tell you that she's vetted Singleton and she's comfortable he's clean."

Samar's eyes darted back and forth from Cooper to Ressler. "When is he coming in?" she asked in an effort to diffuse the situation.

"I think this is a really bad idea, sir," Ressler continued, "he broke into the apartment of a federal agent. He clearly has no disregard…"

"Agent Ressler. Enough," Cooper said firmly. "I am aware of what the detective has done and I am comfortable from what Agent Keen has said that he did not do so for nefarious purposes. Agent Navabi, you will handle the debriefing."

"At least let me be the one to talk to the guy!" Ressler protested angrily.

Cooper shook his head. "Agent Keen specifically requested that Agent Navabi handle it. Judging by your reaction, I think it's probably best all around to allow cooler heads to prevail."

Ressler stood up and stormed out of Cooper's office in frustration. _What the hell, Liz_ , he thought as he slammed the door to his own office and sank into his chair. Samar opened the door a moment later and then closed it and leaned against it, arms folded.

"What's going on with you?" she asked as she watched him curl his fist into a ball as if to punch Singleton in the jaw. "You're really on edge."

Ressler shook his head. He wasn't sure he could explain it if he tried. The more time he spent with Liz, the more he couldn't get his mind off her. When he didn't hear from her, he worried about what she was doing. Now he had good reason since she was running around behind his back to meet with Singleton after promising she'd be careful.

Samar waited for a moment but when he didn't reply she sighed. "Look, I'll get a read on him. And I won't go easy on him if I think something's fishy there. But I think you need to trust Liz's instincts on this. She'd never bring him in here if she really believed he was a risk."

"I want to believe that," Ressler said slowly. "But you're the one who told me she'll do whatever it takes to catch Tom's killers. I'm starting to think that includes putting herself at risk too."

"You can't protect someone who doesn't want your protection," Samar replied. She turned and left the office and closed the door behind her, leaving him to this thoughts.

Later that afternoon, Ressler found an excuse to be at Aram's workstation when Liz arrived with Singleton. She met his gaze as she walked the detective towards Samar and her eyes pleaded with him not to say a word. Ressler gave her a long look and then lowered his eyes back to Aram's desk. He'd respect her wishes. For now.

He watched as Samar and Liz took Singleton over to their evidence board and he watched the detective's expression change from curiosity to complete confusion. He could only imagine the thoughts running through the man's mind as he learned that the one of the FBI's Most Wanted was in fact the FBI's most secret informant. Ressler turned on his heel and made his way back to his office.

An hour later, after Singleton left, Liz finally appeared in the doorway. She glanced at him tentatively as if expecting an outburst and, receiving none, came into the office and closed the door behind her.

"I know you're upset," she began.

"It's not like that matters," Ressler replied bitterly. "You're gonna do whatever you need to do, right?"

"You need to trust me on this," Liz replied firmly. "Singleton is clean. We're on the same side."

"Then why did he break into your apartment?"

Liz exhaled. "Because he thought _I_ was the dirty cop. He saw me with Reddington and thought I was Reddington's FBI stooge."

Ressler digested that. "Does he know about your real connection to Reddington?"

Liz shook her head. "No. The only thing he knows about is this Task Force and my professional relationship to Reddington as my C.I. And I intend to keep it that way."

Ressler licked his lips. "You gotta be careful, Liz."

"I will," she replied. "And you need to trust me."

Ressler gave her a long look. "I do…except when it comes to the amount of risk you're willing to take. I'm worried you're going to go too far, Liz. I don't want to see you hurt again."

Liz pursed her lips. If he only knew what she'd really been up to, he'd be horrified. She felt like there was a wall between them that grew only larger by the day.

"I need to find Tom's killers so I can start living my life again," she hissed. "You of all people should understand that."

"I do - I just…" Ressler folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. "You need to be careful. You still have people who care about you," he added quietly.

Liz exhaled. She understood where he was coming from. His heart was in the right place. But there were never going to see eye to eye on this issue.

"I promise. No unnecessary risk," she replied smoothly. Both of them knew she didn't really mean it.

* * *

More than a week passed before Ressler got the chance to talk to her again. He caught up to her in the hallway of the Post Office after leaving Cooper's office.

"Hey, the burner you mentioned. That's good news. Working with Singleton is paying off?" Ressler asked.

Liz nodded. She'd come to like and respect Singleton after working closely with him. "I was right about him, he's clean," she replied. "I hope Aram can trace this number and it gets us somewhere."

"Well, I'm glad you were right and I was wrong about him," Ressler replied as he squeezed her elbow gently. "It's not the first time," he added with a chuckle.

"Yeah," Liz agreed with a faint smile. "How's the case? It sounds busy?

Ressler shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, we're getting closer though. Good luck," he added warmly.

"Thanks," Liz replied with a smile.

* * *

Hours later, Ressler watched as officers in hazmat suits took Pattie Sue Edwards and Caleb Cronin into custody.

"That was incredibly risky, what you did," Samar said from behind him.

Ressler turned and arched an eyebrow and nodded slightly in silent acknowledgment. "She deserved the truth," he said simply as he watched the scene.

"Even after all the people she killed?" Samar replied. "The Donald Ressler I knew two years ago wouldn't have been so sympathetic."

Ressler licked his lips. "Maybe. Her husband was innocent. But, you're probably right."

"I think you have a soft spot in your heart for widows seeking revenge," Samar added lightly.

Ressler shot her a look and tightened his jaw. "This had nothing to do with Liz," he replied tightly. Which was only partially true. Liz had been on his mind, but he'd thought of his mother too and how much she'd suffered as a result of Markin's betrayal of his father.

"Well, at least Liz isn't poisoning a city in search of the truth," Samar replied. "Whatever else she may be up to."

_Whatever else, indeed_ , Ressler mused as he quickly pushed thoughts of the Stewmaker file out of his mind.

* * *

Two days later, Ressler sat alone in his apartment, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He hated funerals as a general rule. Who didn't? But the funeral of Dennis Edwards had hit him particularly hard. The grieving widow receiving a folded flag for her fallen husband, the military salute. The whole day had brought back memories Ressler would rather forget.

Ressler poured himself a generous helping of Red's whiskey in an effort to numb the pain. His eyes kept drifting towards the folded flag on his own bookcase that served as a stark reminder of his father's funeral. He'd watched his mother fight to stay composed as it was placed in her hands. He swallowed hard against the lump that rose unbidden in his throat. His mother was too decent of a woman to have ever contemplated the sort of vigilante justice Pattie Sue Edwards had attempted. And her punishment for that decency was a lifetime of watching Markin and the others who had abetted him get away with murder because the system failed her. Ressler swiped at his eye angrily at the first hint of a tear. The last thing he wanted was to be that guy wallowing in maudlin self pity. But he'd learned the hard way that sometimes there was no way to work the system except to take matters into your own hands. So he sympathized with Pattie Sue Edwards. But she was gonna spend the rest of her life in a cell for taking things too far. And he'd almost done the same thing. His eyes drifted back to the flag. It made him nauseous to think how disappointed his father would be at how deep he'd gotten in with Prescott.

* * *

Across town, Liz's hands shook with anger as Cooper escorted her to her car. They'd retreated from the crime scene as soon as Liz had realized that one of the U.S. Marshals at the scene was the man who had stabbed Tom. They couldn't risk the man seeing her and realizing that she had made that connection.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I know you'd come to like and respect Detective Singleton," Cooper said. "We're going to make sure this Marshal - whoever he is - is brought to justice for him and for Tom. Are you alright to drive?" Cooper added as he watched her slide behind the wheel. "I can…"

"I'm fine," Liz said wearily. "As fine as I'm going to be. Thank you, sir."

"Well, if you need anything, you let me know, ok? I'll see you tomorrow," Cooper said.

Liz drove a few blocks away from the scene before she pulled over again and let the tears flow. _How many more?_ She thought. _How many more have to die?_ Liz felt as if she was caught in a vortex with no way out.

Eventually, she wiped away the tears and tried to collect herself. It was as if she was at war with her own emotions. The pull of the darkness and despair was growing stronger by the day. But she was trying to fight it. She was trying to stay focused on the mission. She glanced at her watch. She didn't really feel like going home. She pulled out her cell and debated whether to call Ressler. She'd told herself she needed to stop reaching out to him. She'd barely spoken with him over the past week while she was occupied with Singleton. But now… she couldn't explain it, but she felt inexplicably drawn to the solid comfort he provided. It was selfish, she knew. But right now, she needed him. She put her phone back in her pocket and decided to just drive to his apartment instead.

* * *

Ressler was still fighting his own demons when his thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on his door. He set his glass down and made his way over to the door. His lips tightened as he saw who was on the other side of it. He wasn't sure he had it in him to provide any kind of emotional support at that moment.

Liz was taken aback by Ressler's appearance as he swung the door open. His usual amiable demeanor was replaced by folded arms and a scowl. His eyes looked sunken and even a bit red.

"What's wrong?" he asked curtly.

"I just wanted to talk," Liz replied, slightly taken aback by his tone.

Ressler's expression softened as he exhaled. "I'm sorry, Keen," he replied wearily. "I had a hell of a day and I'm really not very good company right now. Can it wait?" His tone was almost pleading.

"Of course," Liz replied hastily as her cheeks flushed and she looked down at her feet. She shouldn't have assumed he'd welcome her with open arms, especially after she'd basically shut him out for more than a week. "I'll call you another time," she added as she spun on her heel and walked hastily to the elevator without a backward glance.

She made it all the way out of his building and halfway down the block before she stopped to collect herself. She couldn't blame Ressler. She'd been a taker for a long time in their relationship and the man was more than entitled to push back. He looked like hell though and as the minutes passed, Liz felt more and more guilty for simply walking away. She'd come to him because she was upset and it hadn't even occurred to her to ask what was bothering him. _I should have offered to listen_ , she thought. _When did I become this person who doesn't even think to do that?_

Liz tapped her fingers anxiously on the side of the building as she weighed whether to go back upstairs. Finally she turned and retraced her steps back to the elevator. She wasn't sure her overture would be welcome but she also knew she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she didn't try.

Ressler's eyes narrowed as he opened the door a second time.

"You forget something?" he asked mildly.

Liz took a deep breath and met his gaze firmly. "Yes. Apparently I've forgotten how to be a decent friend because I was so absorbed in my own problems that I forgot that other people - that you - have things going on too. So I came back to tell you that I'm sorry and that I'm ready to listen if you want to talk about whatever happened today."

Ressler blinked, startled by her response. He'd felt guilty as soon as he'd turned her away but this response was unexpected. He hesitated only a moment before stepping aside to let her pass.

"You want a drink?" he asked as Liz saw the glass of whiskey on the table.

"Just water," Liz replied. She wanted a clear head.

Ressler disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with a glass of water which he handed to Liz. Liz took a sip as he sat down on the couch beside her and brushed a hand across his face wearily.

"So what happened today?" she asked softly.

Ressler gazed at her for a moment to make sure she really seemed sincere before he leaned back and launched into the story. Liz asked a few questions but mostly just let him talk.

He told her most of it. The widow seeking revenge, the lengths she had gone to. The funeral and the memories it had brought back. But he left out the part about Prescott and his own guilt. He still wasn't ready to share that with her.

"I'm sorry," Liz said quietly when he was finished. "You did a good thing for her." Barely thinking, she reached out and took his hand and squeezed it.

Ressler looked surprised at the unexpected touch but didn't pull away. "She's going to spend the rest of her life behind bars," he replied grimly. "Figured it was the least I could do."

He glanced down at their hands. Liz still held his in a light clasp. After a moment, he turned their hands over so his was on top and held hers in a firmer grasp.

"Thanks for listening. Now it's my turn - what brought you here tonight?" he asked in a low voice.

Liz bit her lip and turned her head away. "Singleton. He's dead."

Ressler tightened his grip on her hand as he felt a chill run down his spine. "How? What happened?"

Liz filled him in on what she knew. The traced call that had led back to Singleton's task force. Singleton's disappearance. The call from Cooper. And finally, the U.S. Marshal she had seen at the crime scene.

"You're sure? You're sure this is the guy who killed Tom?" Ressler asked when she was finished.

Liz nodded. "I'm positive. I remember his face and his voice."

"And you're sure he didn't see you?" Ressler asked cautiously.

Liz nodded again. "I think so. Cooper and I left as quickly as we could."

Liz got up and walked over to the window, and stood with her back towards Ressler, her arms tightly folded, hugging herself. "All I know is that I need this to be over. I hardly recognize myself anymore. I'm just so angry all the time," she said sadly. "Angry at the people who killed Tom - angry at Reddington - angry at Tom - angry at myself..."

"None of this was your fault, Liz," Ressler interjected. You couldn't have stopped it if you tried."

"I wish I believed that," Liz said bitterly. "I feel like if I hadn't been so blind..." her voice trailed off and she hung her head.

Ressler got up and crossed the room and stood behind her. Instinctively, he placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed gentle circles with his thumbs.

"I blamed myself for a long time when Audrey died," he said softly. "If I hadn't tried to hide her she'd probably have been fine. Sometimes I still do."

Liz nodded silently and closed her eyes, giving herself over to the soothing movements of his hands. It felt good to be touched, caressed. She hadn't realized how much she craved that until this moment. They stood quietly for a long time. Finally, Liz leaned back against Ressler's chest with a sigh and he moved his hands off her shoulders and wrapped them around her. She could feel his breath, warm and rhythmic against her neck.

"We're two broken people, aren't we?" Liz said. "Something's gotta give, right?"

"I guess," Ressler replied slowly. "It will get better, Liz. It has to."

"You know what else I am?" Liz continued in a small voice.

"What?" Ressler replied.

"Lonely," Liz replied, her voice catching. "Really lonely." Ressler tightened his embrace.

Liz felt her heart begin to beat a little faster as leaned into his embrace. She hadn't intended for the evening to move in this direction but suddenly she craved more from him. Did she dare?

Making up her mind, Liz moved her head slightly so that her hair brushed against his neck. "Just once - just for one night - I don't want to feel that way," she whispered. She turned slowly and gazed up at him, her eyes burning, daring him to kiss her. "I want to feel alive again. No strings - no commitment," she continued. "How about you?" she asked as she reached up and traced his lips gently with one finger before taking both of his hands in hers. "Are you lonely too?"

She heard Ressler's sharp intake of breath and he stared at her wordlessly, eyes burning. His body screamed yes while his mind was fighting an increasingly losing battle with the idea of what she was clearly proposing.

"Liz," he began, sounding strangled before Liz cut him off by once again placing a finger gently on his lips.

"Don't overthink it," Liz murmured as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close against her, moving her hips seductively against the obvious evidence of his interest. Ressler held her gaze for another moment, before he leaned forward and tentatively grazed her lips with his. His lips were softer than she'd imagined and tasted faintly of whiskey.

If he'd had any doubts about Liz's intentions they were quickly dispelled. His heart pounded as he felt her tongue trill against his. He cupped her face with his hands and drew her in closer to hims. Within moments they were both running their hands over the other.

Barely thinking, Ressler slowly began edging Liz towards the bedroom. When they reached the doorway, he had enough presence of mind to pull back so they could catch their breath. He ran his hand softly through her hair and caressed her cheek. "Liz, are you sure you —" he began, knowing that if they took another step, there was no turning back.

"I'm sure that I don't want to sleep alone tonight," Liz replied as she met his gaze evenly. "You don't look like you want to either. And I promise I won't hold any of this against you tomorrow. I'm not looking for a commitment, Ressler. I just —"

_To hell with it_ , Ressler thought as he crushed his lips against hers once more, silencing any further explanation before either of them could change their minds. Liz reached for his belt buckle, her intent unmistakable. She no sooner had the buckle undone before Ressler spun her around and in one motion gently deposited her on the bed. He bent to kiss her once more as he slowly began to unbutton her blouse, dropping gentle kisses on her chest and belly as he did so. Liz was less gentle in gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head. The feel of her bare skin against his was electric as he moved his hands lower to remove the rest of her clothing.

* * *

Afterwards, they lay wrapped in each others' arms, the sheets tangled around their bodies, each reluctant to be the first to break the silence.

Liz ran her fingers lightly up and down Ressler's arm. She'd never paid attention before to just how many freckles he had. They all ran together into one spotted pattern that covered his entire body. She hadn't planned this but Liz was surprised at how at ease she felt with him. She felt strangely calm and languid for the first time in ages.

Eventually, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes with a serious expression.

"I lied about one thing," she said solemnly.

Ressler's expression changed from relaxed to wary almost instantly. He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

"I'm not sure I'm ok with only doing that once," she said as seriously as she could manage before the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile.

Ressler stared at her for a moment before a soft rumble of laughter erupted from his chest.

"You had me going there for a second," he replied as he shook his head. He reached out a hand and pushed the hair back from her face. "I think I could handle a repeat," he murmured as he pulled her close again him and kissed the top of her head. "Just not quite yet."


	7. Chapter 7

When Liz woke the next morning, she was alone in Ressler's bed. She was honestly relieved as her cheeks flushed at the memory of the night before. They'd enjoyed each other a second time before giving into exhaustion. Her last memory was of drifting off to sleep spooned in his arms. Now, by light of day, she felt more than a little embarrassed about using him that way. _He seemed more than willing_ , she reminded herself. Which was part of the problem. She hoped he wasn't looking for more than she was prepared to give. She was nowhere near ready for a new relationship. She glanced at the clock. It was barely 7 am. She could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. She sat up in bed, still naked, and saw that Ressler had left a towel, a t-shirt and a pair of shorts neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Her mouth twitched into a slight smile at his thoughtfulness. At least she would be spared the indignity of having to crawl around the room stark naked searching for her clothes. And she could shower before she had to face him.

She grabbed the towel and the clothes and padded into the bathroom that was connected to his room. From the damp air, she could tell he had recently showered himself. Apparently she was tired enough that she had slept right through it. She scanned the shower quickly to determine that he seemed to have all the necessary supplies set out before she turned on the water. She couldn't help but notice that there was no evidence of any regular female presence in his apartment. All of his supplies - from his shampoo to his shower gel - were clearly purchased only for a man.

From the kitchen, Ressler heard the shower turn on and took a deep breath. He'd woken at dawn, as was his habit. Not wanting to disturb Liz, he'd lain still for as long as he could just watching her sleep. He wasn't sure there would be a next time. There had been a time, a long time ago, that he'd imagined them together like that. Last night had largely lived up to his imagination except for the circumstances that had brought them together in the first place. There was a time he would have hoped for a more emotional connection. But under the circumstances, Ressler was under no illusions that Liz wanted more than a purely physical relationship. To his own surprise, it really didn't bother him. Not yet, anyway. As long as things didn't take an awkward turn like they had with Navabi. Now that that tension was behind him, he wasn't eager to experience anything like it ever again.

In the shower, Liz rested her forehead against the cool tiles as she allowed the hot water to sluice down her back. On top of nerves she felt a pang of something like guilt. _He's been dead nearly two years_ , she reminded herself. _He wouldn't begrudge you_. She stayed in the shower long enough that the water began to cool. With a sigh, she turned off the faucet.

A few minutes later, Liz appeared in the kitchen wearing the shirt and shorts Ressler had left for her, her damp hair tied in a messy bun. She gave him a nervous smile, which he returned as warmly as he could. Ressler slid a steaming mug of coffee across the counter, which Liz accepted gratefully.

"You find everything you needed?" he asked mildly.

"Yes, thank you," Liz replied as she lowered her eyes and sipped the coffee. She glanced up to see Ressler watching her, arms folded, as he leaned against the counter. She felt her cheeks flush again as she found herself suddenly more aware of the muscular body beneath the clothes. Liz took a deep breath.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night," she began.

"I'm not," Ressler interjected. Liz blinked at him, startled, and then couldn't help but laugh as she watched a slow grin spread across his face.

Ressler crossed the kitchen and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Liz. You said it yourself. We were both lonely. If we made each other a little less lonely for one night, there's nothing wrong with that." He'd spent enough time that morning convincing himself that he hoped he sounded sincere.

Liz exhaled slowly. She was relieved that Ressler seemed so casual about the whole thing.

"Our friendship means a lot to me, especially now," she replied carefully. "I wouldn't want to ruin that."

Ressler gazed at her evenly. "You didn't. We haven't. At least not as far as I'm concerned." The words slipped easily from his mouth but there was a part of him, deep down, that cringed at her emphasis on friendship.

"And I don't want things to be awkward at work," Liz continued.

Ressler sighed. "They won't be, unless you plan to march into Cooper's office and pull an Aram and announce we slept together." He arched a ginger eyebrow.

Liz burst out laughing both at his expression and the memory of Aram and how anxious he'd been when he first started seeing Samar. "Nope. No plans to do that."

"Well, we should be fine then. You hungry?"

* * *

An hour later, Liz had eaten, located her clothing and was prepared to head home.

Ressler walked her to the door.

"Thanks again," Liz murmured as she paused in the doorway.

Ressler hesitated. Part of him would have loved to kiss her one more time, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be welcome. "If you find yourself lonely again, you know where I live," he said lightly.

* * *

Several days passed before he saw her again. He caught up to her in the hallway of the Post Office as they were preparing to leave for Pittsburgh to investigate the Capricorn Killer.

"You ok?" he asked. He'd watched her during the briefing and something seemed off. He couldn't quite put his finger on what. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with their night together.

Liz shook her head slightly. "I sat outside Singleton's funeral this morning. Garvey was a pallbearer! Offering condolences to the family as if..." she blinked rapidly and turned her head away.

Ressler squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry, Liz." So it wasn't him, at least, that was the problem.

"Thank you," she sighed. "Hopefully this case will be a distraction. I could use one right about now."

* * *

The next few days passed quickly as they investigated the case. They were almost never alone - either Samar or Graves or both were with them most of the time. But Liz was grateful that there didn't seem to be any lingering awkwardness with Ressler. Even though they hadn't worked together closely for months, they fell right back into an easy rhythm and he didn't seem to treat her any differently.

While she was comfortable enough with Ressler, her sessions with Dr. Fulton were something else altogether. She'd thought she could get away with telling the doctor what she thought she wanted to hear. But the doctor's fascination with Liz's darker impulses had forced Liz to confront some uncomfortable truths about herself. The more Liz opened up, the less comfortable she felt in her own skin. She was starting to feel like she was only playing the role of a dutiful FBI agent rather than being one. And that realization was unsettling. It was like there were parts of herself that she hid behind locked doors in her mind and when they were exposed - she wasn't sure who she was anymore.

* * *

It all came to a head within a matter of days, and faster than she ever expected. Liz's hands trembled slightly as she watched the crime scene techs process the scene. Would she have smothered The Sandman if the FBI hadn't shown up when they did? She'd wanted to do it. She'd been ready to do it. And the thought terrified her. It reminded her of the time she had almost strangled the Deer Hunter. Except this time her life had not been at risk. There was no self-defense. Just a raw desire to right a wrong.

She glanced up and saw Ressler duck into the room. If he only knew the truth, he wouldn't look at her the same way. She couldn't tell him that she'd let Dr. Fulton go. He'd never understand. She hated herself as the lies slipped easily off her tongue. And even more so because a part of her selfishly craved the solid comfort of his presence. She knew it was unfair to him. She almost broke and came clean as he put his arm around her and rubbed her back. But something deep within her held her back from confessing.

Eventually he stood up and extended a hand.

"Navabi said she can take it from here. I'll drive you home."

Liz flashed him a grateful smile and allowed him to help her up. He kept his hand lightly on her elbow as he led her to the waiting SUV.

Liz was quiet for most of the drive back to DC. She didn't really know what to say, since she couldn't tell him the truth. She caught Ressler's concerned glances as his eyes flicked back and forth from the road to her.

"You ok?" he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

Liz nodded. She wasn't, but she couldn't tell him why. "Just worn out," she said quietly.

Ressler licked his lips. He could tell there was something she wasn't telling him. He just didn't know what.

"Look. I don't know what went really down in there. But don't beat yourself up. We got Hollis. We'll find the woman."

Liz nodded wordlessly. _If he only knew._

When they arrived at her apartment, Ressler parked the car and turned off the engine. "I'll walk you up," he said simply. She didn't protest.

Liz unlocked the door and turned to face him. "Thanks for the ride," she said quietly.

Ressler gazed at her for a moment before reaching out and cupping her face with one hand. He stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb.

"I'm just glad you're ok."

He dropped his hand and turned and headed for the stairs.

"Ressler!"

He paused and glanced back at Liz.

"Will you come in for a bit?" Her eyes met his pleadingly.

He nodded and walked back to her door and followed her into the apartment, shedding his overcoat and suit jacket and loosening his tie. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.

"I'm afraid I have practically no food in the house - I can order something if you're hungry?" Liz apologized as she scanned the bare shelves of her refrigerator. "I do have beer though," she offered as she held up a bottle.

Ressler accepted the beer as he glanced around the apartment. Not much had changed in the weeks since he had last been there. The place still resembled a crime scene more than a home. Ressler couldn't imagine waking up every day and staring at those photos. That kind of thing would mess with anyone's mind.

"I could eat," he said with an apologetic smile. "There wasn't much time for that today. If you don't mind ordering something."

"I don't mind," Liz replied. "Least I can do if you're keeping me company." She flashed him a shy smile. As much as there hadn't been any awkwardness between them while working the case, she felt awkward now. She wasn't sure herself exactly why she had invited him in. She'd told herself that the other night was a one time thing. _And yet_. Being around him kept her inner demons at bay.

Their Chinese takeout arrived a short while later. Ressler opened a second beer as they ate and made small talk but the tension between them was palpable. Liz found herself surprisingly aware of his movements. She watched the muscles of his back as he leaned into the fridge to retrieve his beer and she was distracted by even the simple movements of his hands and arms as he ate. For his part, he seemed to be watching her too. As much as she hated to admit it, as strange as it was to even think of being with another man in this apartment, of all places, there was a part of her that wanted him. Again.

When they finished eating, Ressler helped her clear the table.

"I'm just gonna hit the head and then I should probably get going and let you get some sleep," he said quietly when they were finished.

As the bathroom door closed behind him, Liz leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. She barely knew what she wanted anymore.

Ressler emerged from the bathroom moments later to find Liz waiting for him.

"Maybe you don't have to go just yet," she whispered as she leaned forward and used his tie to pull him towards her so she could press a light kiss on his lips.

"Maybe I don't."

* * *

Afterwards, she lay in his arms, her head on his chest, as he stroked her hair.

Eventually, he cleared his throat. "When you were taken today, I thought —" his voice trailed off as he exhaled and pulled her tighter against him. "I'm glad I'm here with you now."

"Me too," she whispered. "Me too."


	8. Chapter 8

3 a.m. _Witching hour. The devil's hour._ Liz had heard it called both and either description fit. She shifted slightly and stole a glance at Ressler, who was sound asleep on his back beside her, bare-chested with one arm slung back over his head. His face was peaceful, his posture entirely relaxed. She envied him that. But he had no reason to be otherwise. She'd kept her demons to herself, unwilling to share the true depth of how far she'd nearly fallen. She'd managed a few hours of sleep after their lovemaking, but something had woken her and now she found it impossible to quiet her mind. She considered rolling over and enveloping herself in his arms, using him once again for his solid, comforting presence. But she just as quickly rejected the idea. She felt guilty enough for lying to him as it was.

Unable to contain her restlessness any longer, Liz slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Glass in hand, she made her way into the living room. The moon overhead cast a glow through the skylight that lit the room just enough that she didn't need to turn on a light. Liz shivered slightly and rubbed her arm as she stood at the large window. The street below was dark and quiet, illuminated only by a handful of street lamps. She pictured Dr. Fulton running through the cold, dark woods and wondered whether and how she had escaped.

 _You did the right thing letting her go_ , Liz told herself as she traced a finger absently across her reflection on the cold window. But Dr. Fulton wasn't really what was bothering her. It was the fact she'd been seconds away from smothering a man with a pillow if the FBI hadn't burst in when they did.

"You ok?" Liz turned and saw Ressler standing by the bedroom door with his arms folded, watching her. He was dressed only his boxers since the only other clothes he had with him was his suit.

"I'm fine," Liz replied as convincingly as she could manage. "Just couldn't sleep." She smiled at him wanly.

Ressler crossed the room and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Look - I can go home now if this is uncomfortable for you. I understand."

Liz inhaled sharply. _Oh god, he thinks this is about him. About him being here._ A fresh wave of guilt washed over her.

Liz shook her head. "This has nothing to do with you being here and I'm not uncomfortable. I promise. I don't want you go on my account."

Ressler held her gaze for a moment and then nodded slightly. "Come back to bed?" he asked softly.

"Okay." Liz set down her water glass and followed Ressler back into the bedroom. As she slipped under the covers beside him, he extended an arm in invitation. Liz hesitated only briefly before she slid over and spooned herself against his chest.

"You want to talk about it?" he murmured as he draped his arm around her and pulled her close. Liz bit her lip.

"Not really," she whispered as she hoped he wouldn't press her further.

Ressler didn't reply but instead took his hand and gently stroked her from her hair all the way down the curve of her arm and hip. Liz closed her eyes and tried to relax. Eventually, she felt herself beginning to grow drowsy. She was dimly aware of Ressler's warm breath against her neck as she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Three hours later, neither of them had moved much when Liz's alarm jolted them both awake. With a groan, Liz leaned over and turned it off and then rolled over so that she was facing Ressler.

"Morning," he said softly as he waited for her reaction.

"Morning," Liz replied as a slow smile spread across her face.

They lay quietly for a few minutes as Ressler ran his hand absently up and down her back. Eventually Liz pulled back and propped herself up on one elbow.

"I'm sorry about last night," Liz began.

"Which part?" Ressler interjected.

Liz blinked, startled, until she saw the twinkling bemusement in his eyes.

"The waking you up at 3 a.m. part," Liz retorted with a laugh. "What did you think I meant?"

Ressler chuckled as he reached up and brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek. "Good. Just wanted to be sure."

Liz shook her head as a smile tugged at her lips. He had a knack for diffusing potentially awkward moments with humor that she found endearing.

"I guess I have to admit that we've moved past the one-time thing now, haven't we?" Liz replied with a sigh.

"We have," Ressler agreed. "You ok with that?"

Liz nodded. "Are you?"

"I'm not complaining," Ressler replied. "Though if we're going to make this a habit, I might need to start keeping some extra clothes in my car."

Liz laughed and patted his arm. "I'll make some coffee. You can shower if you want."

"Coffee sounds great. I think I'm gonna shower at home though. I need to shave and change for work."

"Suit yourself."

Ressler emerged from the bedroom a short while later clad in his suit pants and shirt from the day before. He accepted a mug of coffee and sipped it gratefully.

"You said last night that an eyewitness came forward who saw Garvey kill Singleton?" he asked.

Liz nodded. "Yes. Aram was going to pick him up and put him into protective custody yesterday. We should be able to interview him at the Post Office this morning."

"Sounds good. I'll run home and change and meet you there in an hour."

* * *

When Ressler arrived at the Post Office, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Aram looked haggard and flustered and Liz was nowhere to be seen.

"Aram? What's going on. Have you got the witness?" Ressler asked.

"The convoy was compromised," Samar said from behind him as Aram lowered his eyes to his desk. "Aram was overpowered and the witness was taken."

"Taken by whom? Garvey?" Ressler exclaimed.

"We don't know," Aram replied miserably. "We assume so."

"Where's Keen? Does she know?" Ressler scanned the war room looking for any sign of Liz.

"Yes, she knows," Aram replied. "She, uh…" his voice trailed off.

"She's upset," Samar interjected. "Understandably so. It wasn't Aram's fault."

Ressler pursed his lips. He wasn't about to start playing blame games without all the facts. "You're getting feeds?" he asked. Samar nodded. "I want to see everything," Ressler continued. "Where is she?"

Samar tilted her head. "In the office, I think."

Ressler flicked his eyes from Samar who looked defiant to Aram who looked guilty before striding across the war room to the office he and Liz shared.

The blinds were drawn and the room was dark except for the light from a single desk lamp as he opened the door and quietly closed it behind him.

"I heard about the witness," he said as he crossed the room and perched on the edge of Liz's desk. "Don't worry, we're going to figure out what happened and find him."

Liz looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. "You know as well as I do that he's dead," she replied tightly. "He was dead within minutes of Garvey taking him."

"We don't know for sure it was Garvey," Ressler replied.

"Who else would it be?" Liz retorted. "No one else would care."

Ressler licked his lips. He knew she was probably right. He glanced around the room at the tightly drawn blinds and the closed door before he slid off the desk and pulled Liz gently to her feet.

"Come here. It's gonna be ok," he murmured as he took her in his arms, a gesture that was becoming increasing more natural. Eventually Liz pulled back and dried her eyes.

"I do have some good news," she said.

"What's that?"

"Dr. Fulton cleared me for duty. I have my badge back."

A slow smile spread across Ressler's face. "That's great news. See, things are looking up, Liz. Don't lose hope."

* * *

Nearly a week later, Liz breezed into the office looking excited. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," she breathed.

Ressler glanced up from his computer. "On the witness?"

"On Garvey. Maybe the witness too. Turns out the transport vehicle was disabled using an electronic device. Aram's working on examining feeds from the motor pool as we speak to try to figure out who put the device on the vehicle. Once we know who's responsible, we should be able to tie this whole thing to Garvey."

Ressler smiled. "That's great. I'm glad to hear it."

Liz glanced out the window of the office to make sure no one was watching before she leaned in closer to Ressler's desk.

"Do you have a lot of work tonight?" she asked in a low voice as she ran her fingernail across his thigh. Ressler met her gaze and her eyes were shining.

He whistled softly under his breath. Liz had been preoccupied and standoffish for days but her mood had clearly lifted. "I think it can wait," he replied. "What did you have in mind?"

Liz smiled coyly. "Takeout? I'll pick something up and meet you at your place in an hour?"

Ressler grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

As he drove to his apartment, Ressler reflected on the past week. Liz had been despondent ever since the witness had vanished, but the news that they finally had a lead had seemingly flipped a switch and re-energized her. She'd always been mercurial, but her highs and lows seemed more pronounced lately than ever before. Or maybe he was just noticing them more given the change in their relationship. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned. But for the time being, he planned to roll with it. He hoped her good mood would continue into the evening. It would be a refreshing change.

He barely had time to change into a t-shirt and jeans before Liz was at the door bearing bags of Thai food and, to his delight, a broad smile. She deposited the bags on the table.

"How hungry are you?" she asked as she removed her jacket and gazed at him flirtatiously.

Ressler didn't care about food if she was going to look at him like that. "I can wait," he replied as he leaned down and swooped her up and carried her, laughing, into the bedroom.

An hour later, his stomach rumbled loudly as they lay tangled together in his bed, her hair spread across his chest. Liz picked her up head and chuckled. "I guess we'd better eat something."

"Hey, only my stomach is complaining," Ressler replied with a grin. "The rest of me is happy to stay here as long as you want."

A short time later, they settled down at the table to eat. Ressler poured them each a glass of wine. "To leads," he said simply as he clinked her glass against hers.

"To leads," Liz agreed.

"Did Aram talk to you about the ring?" Ressler asked as they ate.

"He did. He hasn't given it to Samar yet though. I think he's afraid of rejection. I tried to tell him he has nothing to worry about."

"Do you think those two will get married?" Ressler asked.

"I don't know," Liz mused. "I think so. I hope so. It would be nice for them." Liz was quiet for a few minutes.

"Do you see yourself ever getting married?" Liz asked eventually. She realized as the question left her lips that she didn't even know if Ressler had had a serious girlfriend since Audrey. She suspected not unless he kept his personal life more hidden than she realized.

Ressler arched an eyebrow. "I dunno," he replied. "I'd like to, and I'd like to have a family but…it's hard to imagine with the job, you know?"

"Well, I told Aram he's a catch. You are too, you know. Someone would be very lucky to have you."

"Thanks," Ressler replied. He didn't know what else to say. It was a strange conversation to have with his widowed partner turned lover who had made it perfectly clear she wasn't interested in a relationship outside the bedroom. At least not now.

"More wine?" he asked as he hastily changed the subject.

* * *

"Whoah, what happened to you?" Aram looked up as Ressler strode into the war room the next day looking unusually disheveled.

"Car bomb," Ressler replied curtly. "We need to run this jacket for latent prints." Ressler dropped a leather jacket on Aram's desk. "Any word from Samar on the girl?"

"Uh, yes. She interviewed her at the school and she's on her way back now," Aram replied.

"Great. What about Keen? Have you seen her?"

Aram looked uncomfortable. "She, uh - she went to see Mr. Reddington."

Ressler paused and blinked. He could tell from Aram's demeanor that something was up. "About what? What happened?"

"We figured out who attacked the convoy and took the witness," Aram replied slowly.

"Which was…?"

"Mr. Reddington." Aram met Ressler's gaze nervously.

Ressler exhaled. "Let me know if you hear from her," he replied as he strode briskly towards his office. He loosened his tie and threw his dust covered jacket on the back of his chair and brushed a hand wearily across his face before pulling out his phone.

"Liz, Aram told told me about Reddington and the witness. Call me."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ressler was supervising the processing of evidence at Ana-Gracia's apartment when his phone buzzed with Liz's number on the screen. He stepped out into the hallway to take the call.

"How did it go with Reddington?" he asked in a low voice.

"He didn't deny it," Liz replied grimly. "I shoved him into a bookcase."

"Come again?" Ressler wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "You did what?"

"You heard me," Liz replied with a hint of amusement in her voice. "I shoved him into a bookcase."

"I would have paid money to see that," Ressler replied with a snort. "I'm sorry about the witness though. At least we know he's alive, right, if Reddington has him?"

Liz exhaled. "Yes. There is that."

"Why we he take our only eyewitness?"

"Because of his stupid secret in the duffle bag," Liz replied. "Whatever it is, it's more important than anything else it seems."

Ressler could hear the hurt in her voice. "Listen, I'll be done here in an hour. You want to get together later?" He knew he couldn't expect a lighthearted evening like the one they'd shared the night before, but he still wanted to see her.

"Not tonight," Liz replied. "Aram and I are heading out now to fly up to Boston meet a source who may have information on where Reddington took the witness. We won't be back until late."

Ressler licked his lips. He wished he wasn't stuck at the scene so he could go with her. "Ok," he replied reluctantly. "And Liz - be careful."

"I will."

* * *

Ressler took advantage of Liz's absence to catch up on some of the paperwork he had abandoned the night before. By 10:30, he was just getting ready to leave the office when Samar appeared in the doorway. Apparently she'd also decided to work late.

"I just heard from Aram. Garvey's people tried to abduct Liz in Boston."

Ressler had a sinking feeling in his gut that was tempered only by the fact that Samar seemed relatively calm. "What happened? Are they ok?"

"They're fine," Samar replied reassuringly. "Apparently Reddington had surveillance on Liz and he and Dembe were able to help them escape."

Ressler exhaled. "Are they on their way back?"

Samar nodded. "Yes, they're all on Reddington's jet and should land within the hour."

Ressler leaned back in his chair. "That's good. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem, I saw your light was still on. I'm heading out now."

"I'm not far behind you," Ressler replied.

Samar paused in the doorway. "Can I ask you something?"

Ressler arched an eyebrow. "Sure, what?"

"You seem…different lately. Happier? Aram remarked on it also. Anything new? You seeing anyone?"

Ressler licked his lips. "No particular reason," he replied as casually as he could manage. He always found it unsettling how attuned Samar seemed to his moods. He'd have to be more careful.

Samar gave him a long look as her mouth quirked into a slight smile. She clearly wasn't buying what he was selling. "Ok, well. I was just wondering. Have a good night," she replied.

"You too," Ressler replied as he watched her leave. Was he really happier? There was certainly some truth to that. Whatever his relationship had become with Liz - friends with benefits? Something else? He couldn't deny that being with her made him happy. And the idea both thrilled and terrified him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my readers for being so patient in waiting for this next installment. I wrote a whole other story for the Blacklist Fanfic Exchange this summer and found it difficult to get back to this one. I promise it won't be such a long wait for the next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

"So what was that all about?" Liz asked as Ressler walked into their shared office.

"Nothing - Aram and I were just talking about the ring he gave Samar. I thought for sure she'd take it as a proposal. Apparently, I was wrong," Ressler replied. "Shows what I know about women, right?"

The corners of Liz's mouth quirked into a faint smile. "Aram can be hard on himself."

"He's not the only one," Ressler murmured. "Anyway, we're done if you want to go talk to him. I gotta pull some stuff together for this trip."

"Thanks." Liz got up from her desk and headed for the door. She paused in the doorway and turned to face him. "I'm not going to Paris," she said softly.

Ressler glanced up, surprised. "Why not?"

Liz bit her lip. "I want to continue investigating Garvey and I can do that more easily if Reddington's away," she replied.

"You and Aram again?" Ressler asked. Liz could hear the disapproval in his tone. She knew he was still upset about Garvey's attempted abduction.

"Maybe, or maybe just me," Liz replied with an edge. "I need to do this," she added defiantly.

A muscle twitched in Ressler's jaw. "Paris would be a lot more interesting if you came," he said in a low voice.

Liz held his gaze for a moment before she exhaled slowly. "Another time," she replied softly before turning and heading out into the war room. Ressler shook his head as he watched her go.

"Right," he muttered.

* * *

Hours later, Ressler was still testy as he sipped his second scotch aboard Red's jet. Samar was asleep across from him but he hadn't been able to quiet his mind enough to sleep. He had taken a small measure of satisfaction from the fact that Reddington also seemed disappointed that Liz had passed on the trip. But even that wasn't enough to quell his irritation with the man nor his sense of unease at not knowing what Liz and Aram were up to while they were gone.

"Can I get you another?" Ressler glanced up at the flight attendant who appeared at his elbow just as he finished the last of the scotch. Ressler shook his head. He had to be able to function when they landed.

"Just some water, thanks," he replied as he handed her his empty glass. He glanced at his watch. He estimated they were about halfway through their overnight, transatlantic flight. They would land early in the morning, Paris time. He knew he had to try to get some sleep. He stretched and got up to visit the lavatory at the front of the plane. As he made his way up the aisle past Red and Dembe's seats, he wasn't surprised to find that they were both still awake. Ressler wasn't sure if Reddington ever slept. He'd certainly never seen him sleep.

When he emerged from the lavatory, Dembe had vacated the seat across from Red and gone to join the pilot in the cockpit. Red gestured for him to sit and Ressler reluctantly complied.

"So Elizabeth elected not to join us," Red observed evenly. Ressler nodded but remained silent. He wasn't planning to share Liz's business with Reddington.

"I'm sure that must have been disappointing, Donald," Red continued conversationally. "Paris is such a lovely city. Very romantic."

"I wouldn't know," Ressler replied tightly. "I've only ever been there on business. Involving you," he added as he glared at the criminal.

"Pity," Red remarked as he sipped his drink. Ressler forced himself to keep his face expressionless although inwardly, he was seething, and curious as to how much Red knew about what he and Liz had been up to.

After a moment, Red set his drink down on the table on front of him and fixed Ressler with a steely glare.

"I'd be careful playing with fire if I were you, Donald. Elizabeth reminds me a great deal of her mother. She's capable of burning anyone who gets in the way of what she wants."

"Is that a threat?" Ressler asked coldly.

Red chuckled. "You should know me well enough by now to know I don't make threats. I'm simply suggesting that you be mindful of the fact that with Elizabeth, things are rarely as simple as they may seem."

Ressler clenched his jaw. "I know my partner," he replied quietly. "And I know you," he added.

Red smiled faintly. "I wouldn't be so sure," he replied. Ressler locked eyes with Red for a moment before he rose and made his way back towards the rear of the plane. Samar was still asleep.

Ressler clenched his fist as he settled back into his chair. Reddington was so damn smug and at moments like this, he wanted nothing more than to throttle the man. He closed his eyes and began to imagine all the things he would have liked to have said or done to him until gradually, he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

By the time they landed in Paris, Ressler's head was pounding and his mood was sour. Samar shot him concerned glances as Reddington arranged for a car to take them to their hotel.

"You ok?" she asked. "Did you sleep?"

Ressler shook his head. "Not enough. Not enough to want to deal with _him_ ," he added as he glared at Reddington.

Samar glanced from Reddington, who seemed overly cheerful, back to Ressler and wondered what she had missed during the flight. "Well, you better pull it together, because we have a job to do," she replied.

Reddington dropped them off at the hotel with promises to return as soon as he made contact with his source, who would help them find Mosadek.

Alone in his room, Ressler dialed Liz's number and was relieved when she answered on the second ring.

"Hey, have you landed? How's Paris?" she asked.

Ressler glanced around the spacious hotel room. "Not gonna lie - it would be a lot better if you were here. We're in a holding pattern waiting for Reddington to get back."

"I'm sorry," Liz replied softly.

"Reddington had a little sit down with me on the plane," Ressler continued.

"About what?" Liz asked, sounding concerned. "What exactly did he say?"

"He warned me about playing with fire. Specifically you," Ressler replied.

Liz inhaled sharply. "How could he…? I shouldn't even ask that question. He seems to know everything in my life, including who I sleep with."

"I don't know how much he really knows, or if he was just testing to see my reaction," Ressler replied.

"Oh, he knows," Liz replied cynically. "I don't even want to know how, but he knows. Look - it shouldn't affect your work with him. Just be careful."

"I'm not the one I'm worried about," Ressler said quietly. "What are you planning while I'm gone?"

Liz hesitated on the other end of the line. "Nothing that puts me in danger. I'll tell you about it when you get back. Now go - find Samar and have a coffee and a crepe for me while you wait for Reddington, ok?"

"Yeah, ok." Ressler agreed. "Still wish you were here," he added softly.

"Me too," Liz replied.

Ressler replaced the receiver and headed down the hall to Reddington's suite. Samar was waiting in the living room and she looked up as he came through the door.

"Still no word from Reddington," she remarked. "I do love Paris though."

Ressler came and joined her at the window. "Someday I'd like to be a tourist here. Right now, all I want to do is finish this job and go home."

* * *

An hour later, Ressler couldn't help but pace around the hotel suite as they waited to hear from Reddington. As he stared at his watch for the umpteenth time, Samar stood up and handed him his jacket.

"Where are we going?" he asked, puzzled.

"There has to be a decent cafe within a block or two of this hotel," Samar replied. "And I'm going to lose my mind if you continue pacing this room like a caged animal. So let's go get something to eat and drink and we'll both feel better."

Ressler reluctantly accepted his jacket and followed her to the elevator. Deep down, he knew she was right. The tension wasn't doing either of them any good.

He watched as Samar used her fluent French to make some inquiries at the concierge desk. "This way," she gestured as they stepped out of the hotel. "The concierge told me there's a great cafe on the corner."

"I bet you're sorry Aram didn't get to make the trip with us," Ressler remarked as they headed down the street.

Samar shrugged. "It's probably for the best. He'd want to see the sights and do things. It's easier to focus if it's just us and the job. Don't you agree?" Ressler nodded as he jammed his hands in his pockets.

"I am a little surprised that Liz stayed behind," Samar continued. "Do you know why?"

"I think she wants to continue her investigation without Reddington underfoot," Ressler replied curtly. "I just hope she and Aram don't get themselves in any more trouble."

Samar gave him a long look. She was beginning to understand why he was so agitated. "They'll be fine," she said quietly. "Ah - we're here."

They stepped into the cafe and were immediately assaulted by the pleasant smell of baked goods. They found a table for two in the corner. "What do you want?" Samar asked Ressler as the waitress approached.

Ressler glanced at the menu, which was entirely in French, and then back up at Samar, who smiled at his obvious confusion. "Never mind - I think I know what you like. Coffee?" Ressler nodded.

Samar rattled off something in French to the waitress who smiled and nodded and disappeared.

"What did you order?" he asked warily.

"Two espresso and two pain au chocolat and an egg on the side for you because I know you like some protein," Samar replied.

Ressler nodded appreciatively. "Thanks."

When their coffees arrived moments later, Ressler inhaled deeply and took a sip. "I didn't realize how much I needed this until this moment," he remarked.

Samar smiled at him over the rim of her cup. "I know."

Ressler glanced at her left hand.

"Nice ring," he remarked.

"Thank you," Samar replied. "It was a gift from Aram. It was his grandmother's."

"That's great - are you two…?"

Samar shook her head. "It's just a ring. Don't read into it."

* * *

They spent about an hour in the cafe before they headed back to Reddington's hotel. When they arrived, there was still no sign of Reddington. Ressler glanced at his watch. "He's been gone for hours. You think we should call him?"

Samar shook her head as she settled herself into a chair. "Not yet. Let's give him a little more time."

In the end, it took over three hours for Reddington and Dembe to return to the suite where Reddington finally outlined his plan for how they would extract Mosadek the next day. The sky was just beginning to darken as Ressler and Samar left the hotel to go meet her Mossad contact to obtain the concealed vehicles Reddington had instructed them to obtain.

"I heard from Aram," Samar began as they hailed a taxi.

"And?" Ressler asked warily.

Samar pursed her lips. "Apparently Liz arranged for him to get hit by a car while on his bike today."

"What?" Ressler gaped at her.

Samar shook her head. "He's fine. To hear him tell it, there was little risk."

"And how do _you_ feel about that?"

Samar shrugged. "I don't think Liz would purposefully put him in harm's way so I have to trust her judgment. It sounds like they got what they wanted, which was Garvey's internal affairs file."

Ressler shook his head. He was less sure than Samar these days about the lengths to which Liz was willing to go. "So that's it? They're done? They're not going to attempt anything else while we're gone?"

"I don't know," Samar replied. "He didn't say."

"Doesn't that make you uneasy?" Ressler asked.

Samar exhaled. "I trust Aram not to let things go too far. And we can't babysit them from here, even if we wanted to."

* * *

By the time they got back to their hotel it was nearly midnight. Ressler stretched out on his bed and reached for his phone.

"You're up late," Liz said as she picked up on the third ring.

"Yeah. Spent the evening getting things set up for tomorrow," he replied.

"You have what you need? Reddington has a plan?" Liz asked.

"Yeah. Hopefully it will work. Sounds like you had a plan of your own today," he replied.

"Samar told you."

"Yeah."

Liz exhaled. "Please don't worry about me - or Aram. I know what I'm doing. Why do you suddenly not trust me?" she added with an edge.

"It's not that I don't trust you —" Ressler began as his voice trailed off.

"Then what?" Liz interjected testily.

Ressler licked his lips and stared at the ceiling. "I'm just worried that you want your answers so bad, you're not thinking clearly about the price anymore."

"That's not fair," Liz snapped.

"Maybe not," Ressler agreed. "But I'm worried, Liz."

"Look - I know you're disappointed I skipped out on going to Paris. So am I," Liz hissed. "There'll be other chances. But if I don't beat Reddington to that bag, it doesn't matter if we catch Garvey. I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what if. I can't live like that. And as for you and me - I warned you before we became involved. I'm not ready to worry about a relationship right now. So if you're upset because I'm not there to share Paris with you, I'm sorry. But that's the way it has to be right now."

Ressler closed his eyes. He didn't want to fight with her and the conversation was quickly moving in a direction he hadn't intended. "I'm not upset. I do understand. I just worry about you. Can you understand that?"

"Yes," Liz whispered. "And if it makes you feel better - I worry about you too. What's Reddington got planned for tomorrow?"

Ressler chuckled. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you, so it's probably better for me not to say. We'll be fine. I'll call you when it's done."

"I do miss you," Liz replied softly.

"Me too," Ressler agreed.

"Everything ok?" Aram asked as she stepped back into the office where they were poring over the Internal Affairs files they had obtained.

Liz rubbed her hands over her eyes. "Yes," she said wearily. "Ressler's just worrying for no good reason."

"About their op tomorrow? Or about this?" Aram asked anxiously.

Liz sighed. "About what you and I are up to. It sounds like he and Samar have the Paris situation under control. Or at least as under control as any Reddington operation can be. But apparently the trust only goes one way."

Aram leaned back in his chair and smiled faintly. "I get where he's coming from," he replied.

Liz blinked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean it's just - he's not used to this. He's not used to you and me doing things behind their backs. And last time it didn't go so well and Samar kind of gave me a hard time too so…". Aram's voice trailed off.

"Are _you_ worried about our plans?" Liz asked.

Aram hesitated for a moment. "Not really," he replied, though his face told a different story.

Liz shook her head and turnied back to the file. 'We're just going to be doing surveillance. I don't see the big deal."

* * *

The next day passed in a whirlwind as they successfully abducted Mosadek and rescued his son. By the time they touched down in D.C., both Ressler and Samar were exhausted.

"Cooper wants us to swing by the Post Office and debrief him before Panabaker arrives," Ressler said as he slid into the waiting SUV next to Samar. "She's not going to be pleased at the way things went down."

Samar arched an eyebrow. "Probably not," she agreed. "But my conscience is clear. Yours?" Ressler nodded in agreement. He glanced at Samar's hand. As far as the case was concerned, his conscience was clear. But he was still feeling guilty about having given Aram bad advice about Samar's likely reaction to the ring and then making matters worse by discussing it with her.

An hour later, he felt even worse as he watched Samar stalk over to Aram's work station. He glanced into his office. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn and there was no sign of Liz anywhere in the Post Office. Cooper was still behind closed doors with Panabaker so he couldn't ask him where she was. He pulled out his phone to call her.

Liz felt her phone buzz and glanced at the screen.

"Excuse me," she murmured to Jennifer as she stepped into her bedroom.

"Hey, are you back?" Liz asked in a low voice.

"Yeah," Ressler replied. "Just finished debriefing Cooper. He told us to go home, get some rest. Where are you?"

Liz glanced towards Jennifer and lowered her voice further. "I just had some stuff to take care of. You should do what Cooper said, and I'll call you later."

"Or you could just come by and fill me in, in person…" Ressler offered suggestively.

Liz bit her lip and glanced at Jennifer again. "Maybe I will," she replied. "I can't really talk right now, but get some sleep. I'll call you later. Promise"

"Ok." As Ressler hung up the phone, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something she wasn't telling him.

Liz took a deep breath and stepped back into her living room and met Jennifer's eyes. "Now where were we?"


End file.
